RECOLLECTIONS OF A REBEL REEFER 




JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 



RECOLLECTIONS OF A 
REBEL REEFER 

BY 

JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 

With Illustrations 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(tide Wattiibz T^xtii <ramlicitige 

1917 



•/!'';■ 6 



'H' 



COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY JAMES MORRIS MORGAN 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Published April iqij 



APR 16 1317 



©Gi.A45798e 



TO 

MY BELOVED WIFE 
FRANCES F. MORGAN 

BUT FOR WHOSE DEVOTION AND TENDER NURSING OF ME 

THROUGH WEARY YEARS OF ILL HEALTH THESE 

"RECOLLECTIONS " 

WOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN 

WRITTEN 



PREFACE 

Said a writer in Blackwood's Magazine many years ago : 
"None but kings and egoists are fit to indite the record of 
their lives. The king knows himself to be the first of his 
world, and what to the king is knowledge is to the egoist 
a confident belief. Pride, then, personal and overwhelming, 
is essential to the perfect autobiography; and if the pride 
be simple enough, we may perhaps dispense with the other 
great quality — self-knowledge. For though it obscure 
reality, pride can create a phantom at once improving and 
consistent. Nequidquam sapit qui sibi non sapit, wrote 
Cicero." 

The following account of some of my experiences in life 
will have at lea^t the merit of simplicity, and, the story being 
about myself, I ask indulgence for its unavoidable egotism. 

It has been said that "adventures come only to him who 
seeks them," but I am doubtful of the correctness of this 
adage, for I can truthfully say that I had as little to do 
with the shaping of my course in life as has an empty bottle 
thrown overboard in mid-ocean. I spent the most impor- 
tant years of a boy's life, those between fifteen and nine- 
teen, so far as education and the formation of character 
are concerned, tied to a sword and in the midst of a most 
cruel war, and when peace came I was wafted hither and 
thither, the sport of the fickle winds of varying fortune; and, 
having "sailed 'neath alien skies and trod the desert path," 
naturally I imagine that I have met with some adventures 
out of the usual run of the average schoolboy's experiences, 
and if I have written some of them down, it has been with 
the laudable desire of amusing other people rather than 
personal vanity or desire for notoriety. 

Its novelty is another excuse for this volume. The 
shelves of Hbraries are filled with "Recollections," "Remi- 



Vlll 



PREFACE 



niscences," and "Services Afloat," written by admirals, but 
who ever before saw the memoirs of a "Reefer," unless it 
was those of "Mr. Midshipman Easy," and he, being a 
mythical person, of course did not write them himself. I 
make no apology for its many faults and shortcomings, 
for were it told in a scholarly manner and in the rounded 
periods and faultless language of a Macaulay, it would not 
be the story of a midshipman who had few opportunities of 
acquiring an education, and neglected the few which came 
in his way, as the story will make apparent to the dullest 
landlubber. 

If I have omitted to mention one or two afifairs of honor 
in which I took part, either as principal or second, I trust 
that my not doing so will not be regarded as evidence that 
I have any doubt as to the correctness of my attitude on 
those occasions. I do not mention them because I have 
passed the threescore years and ten and do not wish to 
offend the sensibilities of the living, or to reawaken old 
feuds in a State where one of my daughters and my grand- 
children live. 

If I mention an unfortunate shooting affair which oc- 
curred in Columbia, South Carolina, it is because the bloody 
tragedy became a matter of record in the courts. Other 
personal encounters are recounted because they had an 
amusing side to them. 

J. M. M. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I 

Childhood — "Billy Bowlegs" — The Choctaws — Blowing up'and 
burning of the steamboat Princess — Charloe and Katish — 
Throwing the lasso — Buck-jumpers i 

CHAPTER II 

Unlucky in love — The home of a Louisiana aristocrat — Hospitality 
and lengthy visits — The sugar-house — Appointed a midship- 
man — The only Southern man who could not whip ten Yankees 
— Religious mania — Fortress Monroe — Mexican pulque . . II 

CHAPTER III 

Annapolis — "Old Ironsides" — The habit of command — Show 
remarkable leniency toward the midshipman's hereditary ene- 
mies, the commandant and lieutenants — The " Brood of the 
Constitution" — "Bill Pip," our first hero — Other heroes — 
Skating on thin ice — The bilged — Secession . . . . .21 

CHAPTER IV 

Out of the United States Navy — Complete disguise — Captain 
Maynadier, U.S.A. — Passing through the Union and Confed- 
erate lines — Senator Wigfall and President Andrew Johnson — 
Montgomery, Alabama — President Jefferson Davis and Judah 
P. Benjamin — Tender services and sword to the Confederacy — 
Declined with thanks — The "Marseillaise" 34 

CHAPTER V 

Arrive in New Orleans — Brother Harry killed next morning in a duel 

— Home-coming in Baton Rouge 41 

CHAPTER VI 

Volunteers — Lonely — Captain Booth, late U.S.A., finds use for me 

— Pensacola — " Give them a little more grape, Captain Bragg " 44 

CHAPTER VII 

The sloop-of-war McRae arrives at Baton Rouge — Receive warrant 
as a midshipman and ordered to the McRae — Fail to get through 
the blockade — Attack on Federal fleet at the Head of the Passes 



X Contents 

— Heroes until a newspaper "Mahan" discovered that we ought 
to have towed the whole Federal fleet up to New Orleans in 
triumph 51 

CHAPTER VIII 

The McRae made flagship of the Mississippi flotilla — Commodore 
Hollins — Appointed aide-de-camp to the commodore — Island 
No. 10 — New Madrid — The Swamp Fox of Missouri — 
Masked batteries — Wanted to challenge a major — U.S. iron- 
clads pass Island No. 10 — Stung — New Madrid and Island No. 
10 evacuated — "Savez" Read administers a lesson in discipline 
to the volunteers — Gunboats pretty badly cut up by shore bat- 
teries — Go back to New Orleans — Fort Jackson under heavy 
bombardment from Porter's mortar fleet — Commodore Hollins 
relieved from his command — Farragut passes the forts — Death 
of Captain Huger and sinking of the McRae 60 

CHAPTER IX 

Farragut's fleet at New Orleans — Mob threatens to kill his officers 
who demand the surrender of the city — Farragut threatens to 
destroy the city if a hair of their heads is hurt — Pierre Soul6's 
hypnotic fore-finger saves the critical situation — I take to the 
swamp — The " Irreconcilable Home Guard" — Reach General 
Lovell's camp at Amite — Reach Norfolk in time for the evacua- 
tion — Richmond — The battle between the U.S. Ironclads 
Galena, Monitor, and Naugatuck and Drewry's Bluff batteries — 
Battle of Seven Pines (Fair Oaks) — Seven Days' Battle . . 75 

CHAPTER X 

Charleston — Commodore Ingraham — CS. Ironclad Chicora — 
The looting of my home in Baton Rouge — George Hollins dies of 
yellow fever — The Honorable George A. Trenholm — Naval 
officers "never unbutton their coats" — Ordered abroad . . 89 

CHAPTER XI 

Run through the U.S. blockading fleet — Out of our reckoning — Ber- 
muda — Blockade-runners throw money into the street — Com- 
modore Wilkes's famous ship San Jacinto gives us a scare — Hali- 
fax — Sail for England in company with some of Her Majesty's 
Life Guardsmen 98 

CHAPTER XII 

Liverpool — London — Visit " Hill Morton," near Rugby — Ordered 
to the C.S.S. Alexandra — Snubbed — Ordered to Paris — Or- 
dered to London — Birthday properly celebrated — Damn the 



Contents xi 

Marquis of Westminster and lose my only friend — Meet several 
Mr. Grigsons I06 

CHAPTER XIII 

White Haven — The active tug Alar — Meet the Japan, which turns 
out to be the Confederate cruiser Georgia — Ushant Island — 
Break neutrality laws, and away to sea — Hoist Confederate 
flag, but don't use it much — Capture our first prize, the clipper 
ship Dictator — Treatment of prisoners — Cape Verde Islands 

— Narrow escape from U.S.S. Mohican — Crew of Dictator ship 
with us — Chasing ships II3 

CHAPTER XIV 

The Doldrums — Water-spouts — Bahia — Meet the Alabama — 
Changing of the Confederate flag — Corsairos — Brazilian ball 

— Midshipman Anderson makes a pillow out of Captain Semmes 

— U.S.S. Niagara and Mohican on our trail — " Does he want 
his pretty paint spoiled?" — Refused permission to depart after 

4 P.M. — Brazilian battery lires one shot as we pass out . . . 1 24 

CHAPTER XV 

"Tempest in a teapot" — Capture clipper ship George Griswold of 
New York — Burn bark Good Hope of Boston — Funeral at sea 

— Bark Seaver goes to assistance of the Good Hope and is cap- 
tured — Transfer prisoners to the Seaver 133 

CHAPTER XVI 

Barren island of Trinidad — The natural monument — Surf five hun- 
dred feet high — Battle in the air between frigate bird and sailor 
lad — Capture of splendid ship Constitution loaded with coal and 
missionaries — Georgia, by mistake, fires into the Constitution 

— Capture of ship City of Bath — Despoiled of $16,000 of our 
hard-earned wealth by trick of skipper's wife — Learn of the 
death of "Stonewall" Jackson — The Cape of Good Hope . . 140 

CHAPTER XVII 

Simon's Town — The Alabama had just sailed from the port — Two 
of the Georgia's engineers, the boatswain, gunner, and several 
seamen get "cold feet" and leave us — Our first lieutenant, Mr. 
Chapman, ordered to Europe — Visit the city of Cape Town — 
Skippers of burned ships not friendly and disposed to start a 
rough-house — H. M. troopship Himalaya — "Dixie" — Excit- 
ing experience with Malay fishermen — Albatross and Cape 
pigeons — Meet the tea fleet — Also the U.S.S. Vanderbilt — 
Myriads of fish follow the Georgia making the ocean at night 
appear to be in flames 147 



xii Contents 

CHAPTER XVIII 

The prize Bold Hunter, abandoned and on fire, runs down and seri- 
ously damages the Georgia — Mirage at night — Peak of Tene- 
riffe — Santa Cruz — Battle with a Frenchman — Rescue French 
brig Diligente — Captain Maury ill — Sailors get at the spirit- 
room — Mutiny 156 

CHAPTER XIX 

Cherbourg — Letters from home tell of the deaths of my two brothers, 
captains in Stonewall Jackson's corps — French fleet arrives to 
keep us in order — Great storm and loss of flagship's launch and 
crew — Impressive military pageant at funeral — Captain Maury 
relieved from the command of the Georgia. The C.S.S. Rappa- 
hannock — Kearsarge and Tuscarora waiting for us outside . .165 

CHAPTER XX 

Leave Cherbourg — Storm off Cape Trafalgar — Coast of Morocco — 
Anchor in the open sea near the Great Desert — Caravans — 
Moors bring fish — Ancient Moor swims to the ship — We return 
visits and are kicked into the sea — We bombard the troglodytes 

— Give up hope that the Rappahannock will meet us — Weigh 
anchor and have a narrow escape from shipwreck and falling into 
the hands of the Moors 172 

CHAPTER XXI 

Bordeaux — U.S.S. Niagara and Sacramento wait outside for us — 
Two fine sloops-of-war intended for the Confederacy lay near, but 
beyond our reach — Escape from the United States men-of-war 

— Liverpool — A hero at last — Georgia put out of commission 

— Georgia captured by U.S.S. Niagara — Last of the Georgia — 
Men-of-war, privateers, and pirates 180 

CHAPTER XXII 

Paris — Alabama sunk by Kearsarge — Havre — Southampton — 
Ordered to return to the Confederacy — Halifax — Sail for Ber- 
muda and passengers mistake us for pirates — St. George's, 
Bermuda — Take passage in the blockade-runner Lillian — 
Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah and have narrow escape running 
through iDlockading fleet off Wilmington 187 

CHAPTER XXIII 

Shells dropping in the grass-grown streets of Charleston, South Caro- 
lina — Mr. Trenholm is Secretary of the Confederate Treasury — 
Columbia — Mr. Trenholm's beautiful villa — Go to Richmond 
and ask the millionaire Secretary for the hand of his daughter — 
Mrs. Trenholm calls on Mrs. (?) Stephens 197 



Contents xiii 

CHAPTER XXIV 

"Pride goeth before a fall" — Humiliated and sent to school — A 
realistic war college — Call a commander " My man," and order 
him forward — Assault on Fort Harrison — General Lee appears 
on the battle-field — Repulsed — I prove to be something of a 
sprinter 204 

CHAPTER XXV 

I finally become a passed midshipman — Battery Semmes ' — The 
Dutch Gap Canal — Mortar pits and rifle pits — The lookout 
tower — Trading with the enemy — Pickett's famous division 
charges a rabbit — A shell from a monitor destroys my log hut — 
Good marksmanship — An unexploded shell — General Lee in- 
spects battery — Costly result of order to "give him a shot in 
fifteen minutes" — Demonstration against City Point — Confed- 
erate ironclads badly hammered — "Savez" Read cuts boom 
across the river — A thunderous night 212 

CHAPTER XXVI 

The Confederate "White House" — President Davis gives an im- 
promptu lecture on bridle bits — Letter of Mrs. Jefferson Davis 
denying truth of anecdote relating to President Buchanan, Mrs. 
Joseph E, Johnston, and herself — The Southern soldiers and 
girls dance, flirt, and marry, oblivious of the signs that the "de- 
bacle" draws near 220 

CHAPTER XXVII 

Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis and party south — No Pullman 
cars in those days — President Davis bids his family good-bye — 
Insolent deserters insult Mrs. Davis at Charlotte, North Caro- 
lina — A Hebrew gentleman gives her shelter — Midshipmen 
guarding the Confederacy's gold escort her to Abbeville, South 
Carolina — President Davis and his Cabinet at Abbeville . . 228 

CHAPTER XXVIII 

President Davis departs from Abbeville — I carry communication to 
General Fry at Augusta, Georgia — United States troops occupy 
Abbeville. We bury the silver chests — Paroled at Washington, 
Georgia — Accompany Mr. Trenholm to Columbia, where he 
buys a home — Mr. Wagner, of Eraser, Trenholm & Co., pays to 
avoid arrest in Charleston, and Mr. Trenholm is arrested in Co- 
lumbia — Placed in the common jail — Mrs. King hides the gold 
under the Federal commander's nose — General Gillmore, U.S.A., 
treats Mr. Trenholm magnanimously 238 



xiv Contents 

CHAPTER XXIX 

Mr. Trenholm and others of Mr. Davis's Cabinet imprisoned in Fort 
Pulaski — I make a hurried trip to New Orleans to engage coun- 
sel — I get married — Study (?) law — General Daniel E. Sickles 
orders Mr. Trenholm's home returned to him — I become a 
widower — Yellow fever saves me from being on board of the 
fated Evening Star 253 

CHAPTER XXX 

Try cotton-planting with the usual sailor's success — Better success 
following the hounds — Charles Astor Bristed ; " Man is a gregari- 
ous animal" — Drayton Hall — Discovery of the phosphate 
rocks — Visit Philadelphia — Go on the New York Yacht Club 
cruise — General McClellan — General W. S. Hancock views 
the yacht race 259 

CHAPTER XXXI 

Receive a commission as captain in the Egyptian Army — Hurried 
trip to Egypt with nineteen other ex-Union and Confederate 
officers — Alexandria — Call an Oriental blufif — Cause small 
panic in hotel by opening windows during the "kempsine" — In 
uniform — Presented to the Khedive — American officers in 
Khedive's army — Letters of President Davis and General R. E. 
Lee 266 

CHAPTER XXXII 

The Egyptian Army — Eunuchs important beings — Polyglots — 
Anecdote (from court gossip) about the two Schnieders — Ad- 
venturesses — The permanent Secretary — The bounding horse 
Napoleon — Did n't cut His Highness — Napoleon gets me in and 
out of trouble about being too fresh with a Princess, a flower, and 
a dainty lace handkerchief — The Khedive orders a wedding to 
amuse the Empress Eugenie — Divorce — Harems (pronounced 
hareems) 274 

CHAPTER XXXIII 

Egyptian Army splendidly drilled in manual of arms and tactics — 
American officers dine with the EfTendina — Sham battle — 
Napoleon disgraces me — Feast of the Dosse — Marriage of the 
Nile — Oflfend Arabi Bey and am sent to Rosetta — Sailing on 
the great canal — Rosetta — A deserted palace — See ghosts 
which turn out to be lepers — Accept hospitality of an Armenian 
— Commander of garrison not overjoyed to see me . . . . 287 



Contents xv 

chapter xxxiv 

Khedive always just to the American officers, but it was difficult to 
obtain an audience with him — Go to Alexandria with General 
Loring and occupy a royal palace — Difficult to get paid — Row 
with customs officials — An Egyptian military banquet — I have 
not rank enough to entitle me to a seat at the table — Cabal 
formed against General Stone — I am sent to the staff of Ratib 
Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army .... 296 

CHAPTER XXXV 

Ratib Pasha — Attempted suicide gained him promotion — Ratib is " 
presented to a pretty soubrette, and calls on her accompanied 
by his staff — The commander-in-chief is peeved — The Abys- 
sinian campaign — Ratib Pasha the only court favorite faithful 
to the Khedive Ismail in the hour of humiliation and sorrow — 
The Duke of Hamilton, General Mott, and the duel that did 
not come off 301 

CHAPTER XXXVI 

The Franco-Prussian War — Apply for leave to go to France — 
Wrecked — Paris in sackcloth and ashes — A generous Jew . . 310 

CHAPTER XXXVII 

Return to America — Tired of the Egyptian service, but the Khedive 
declines to allow me to resign — Grants me a furlough with per- 
mission to go home — Determine again to become a farmer — 
"Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help; and stay on 
horses" — Columbia, South Carolina — Become lord and master 
of the great Hampton plantation — A bachelor's menage and 
appetite — A lively fox hunt in which the wily Carpetbag Gov- 
ernment is run to cover — Matches cost only five cents a box — 
Trial Justice Sam Thompson -SiS 

CHAPTER XXXVIII 

The name Galapagos inspires the preacher — I take Northern friends 
to a prayer meeting — "Getting glory" — A chicken thief and a 
bulldog get hitched together — Death of Hector as a consequence 
— The preponderance of the evidence — Ball toilets in the middle 
of the day and champagne orgies on the main street — The 
comptroller of the State opens fire on the house of Colonel Black, 
U.S.A., the commandant — Moses, promised immunity, gives 
testimony in the fraudulent bonds case — Questions of personal 
privilege — Nancy Eliot 323 



xvi Contents 

CHAPTER XXXIX 

Corrupt judiciary — Melton voted for Seymour and Blair, but bet his 
money on Grant — Feud between Attorney-General Melton and 
Colonel Montgomery in which Mr. Caldwell was killed and I was 
wounded 332 

CHAPTER XL 

Cotton-picking by moonlight — Swindled by a carpetbagger out of 
my hay crop — Legislative debates — Confiscation by taxation 

— Poverty no bar to marrying and giving in marriage — Hound 
dog gives the alarm and saves my family from death when house 
catches fire — Pay taxes in a novel way, and sell Hampton plan- 
tation — Move to Charleston 340 

CHAPTER XLI 

Friendly shooting-match — Dancing the "Too Ral Loo" — Negro 
mobs — Dawson wounded — U.S. Regulars attacked with 
stones — General Hunt, U.S.A., takes command of the rifle clubs 

— This action costs General Hunt his promotion on retirement — 
Feud between Governor Chamberlain and Captain Bowen, the 
sheriff of Charleston County 348 

CHAPTER XLH 

Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and Courier," de- 
nounces Bowen as the assassin of Colonel White — Bowen brings 
libel suit — Eli Grimes, the actual murderer, located — I go to 
Leesville and bring Grimes to Charleston to testify — Grimes 
attempts to kill himself — Grimes's sensational testimony — 
Mistrial 353 

CHAPTER XLH I 

Exciting political campaign of 1875 — I return to Columbia — The 
dual legislature — Hamilton, negro member of the legislature, 
makes a Democratic speech — The military evict the Democrats 
from the capitol 360 

CHAPTER XLIV 

General M. C. Butler elected U.S. Senator by Democratic legislature 

— Carpetbag conspiracy against Butler proves a fiasco — Don 
Cameron, to the amazement of the country, forces the seating of 
Butler in the U.S. Senate — Senator Blaine traps Senator Vance 
who was fond of practical jokes — Astonishing clash between 
Senators Bayard and Blaine — Visit of a Senate Committee to 
the Indian Territory — Attempt to give a scolding to Chief 



Contents' xvii 

Joseph, of the Nez Percys Indians, and the result — The moun- 
tain would not come to Mohammed, so Mohammed had to go to 
the mountain — Joseph turns the tables on the Senators and ad- 
ministers a stinging tongue-lashing — We leave Joseph, but do 
not feel very proud of ourselves 370 

CHAPTER XLV 

" Fighting Bob " Evans gets me employment with Governor Alexander 
R. Shepherd and I go to Mexico — My brother, P. H. Morgan, 
is appointed U.S. Minister to Mexico — San Antonio, Texas, 
where we buy a herd of unbroken mules — The Canon de las 
Iglesias — Dangers of the mountain trail — Batopilas — The 
San Miguel silver mine — Governor Shepherd as an executive — 
A law unto himself, he wins the favor of Porfiirio Diaz — In 
Bonanza — My conducta carries a hundred and forty thousand 
dollars in silver bars to Chihuahua — Instinct of the mountain 
mule — Beware of the polite Mexican — Narrow escape from fall- 
ing into the hands of Victoria, the Apache Chief — The mountain 
trail strewn with silver bars 383 

CHAPTER XLVI 

Resign position as chief of conductas and start for home via Mazatlan 
and San Francisco — Alamos — Witness marriage between 
a Mexican girl and a German — New York — A dress-suit my 
chief asset — Return to Mexico and become a civil engineer (?) — 
Primitive coaching — Queretaro and its opal mines . . '. 395 

CHAPTER XLVII 

Leon, the city whose sole industry is the carving of leather and making 
of saddles — Running trial lines on the gallop — La Piedad — 
Did n't flop quick enough and got stoned — The brave peccary 

— The strangler tree — The tree that bleeds blood — Come 
upon a murdered man lying on the road — The volcano of Colima 

— General Grant only likes rebels who fought — Mr. Gilmore 
comes near losing his life in the Jule River — Return to the 
States to finance a silver mine 401 

CHAPTER XLVIII 

Return to Tampico and get shipwrecked on the bar — A squaw man 
who was a quack doctor — Find a lake of asphalt and strike oil — 
A precarious ferry — 111 with fever and receive a matrimonial 
proposal 410 

CHAPTER XLIX 

Not even any money in oil, when I am interested — President Gon- 
zalez and General Porfirio Diaz — Collapse of oil scheme — En- 



xvlii Contents 

counter General Charles P. Stone by accident and get employ- 
ment — The Statue of Liberty — Swept to sea by harbor ice — 
Meet an old foe — Laying a corner-stone — General Winfield S. 
Hancock — Lecture my superior officer — I am appointed Con- 
sul-General to Australasia 418 

CHAPTER L 

My appointment as consul-general arouses great indignation among 
Southern office-seekers — Mr. Cleveland said he never would 
have appointed me had he known I was a "pirate" — Torpedo, 
in the shape of a pamphlet, comes near blowing up my prospects 

— Mr. Secretary Bayard gets angry — Mr. Cleveland brushes 
the matter aside and wishes me bon voyage — Get married and 
start for San Francisco — Mr. Bayard recalls me to Washington 
by telegram — I sail for Australia — Seventh-Day Adventists 
indignant when Captain skips Saturday at the one hundred and 
eightieth meridian 424 

CHAPTER LI 

Sydney's beautiful harbor — The authorities compliment me by giv- 
ing me a private compartment for the journey to Melbourne and 
I am surprised to find myself a prisoner therein — Beautiful 
Melbourne and its suburbs — Sir Henry Loch, the Governor of 
Victoria — My wife suddenly ennobled — Singular coincidence 
of meeting a gentleman who had been a passenger on a ship we 
had stopped on the high seas twenty-two years previously — 
Wonderful Australian horsemanship 431 

CHAPTER LII 

Impecunious globe-trotters — Consular courts — Become skipper of 
a water-logged bark against my wishes — A captain claims a 
dollar a day for tuition in the culinary art — For obeying my 
instructions an Australian court mulcts me for five hundred dol- 
lars, holding that despite my exequatur I am only a commercial 
agent — Grocer's assistant gets quite a large fortune — Many 
supposed dead men live in the South Sea Islands — "Black- 
birders" 438 

CHAPTER LIII 

Vast estates — Australian hospitality — Kangaroo hunting — The 
dingo — Rabbits in myriads — Aborigines — Marriage customs 

— Black trackers — Black swans — No songbirds, but many 
curious birds — The "laughing jackass" always gets a laugh 
when he tells a funny story — The "Ornithoryncus" . . . 445 



Contents xix 

CHAPTER LIV 

Sir Henry Loch gives a fancy-dress ball in honor of the Queen's Jubilee 

— The Melbourne Exhibition — Return to America via Suez 
Canal — Visit to the "Isle of France" (Mauritius) — Paul and 
Virginia must have sat down hard — Return to Melbourne — 
Secretary of State appoints a naval officer to take charge of ap- 
propriation for American exhibit — First World's Fair Commis- 
sion ever to turn back a balance into the Treasury — Receive a 
medal — Leave Australia — Authorize captain of the Mariposa 

to return to Sydney — Samoans as swimmers — Resign . . . 453 

CHAPTER LV 

*' Cqdarcroft" — Death of Captain Dawson — Ten years on a farm — 

Vagaries of the genus horse — Australian fox terriers . . . 459 

CHAPTER LVI 

Visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New York — Accompany Mrs. Davis to 
Richmond — Unveiling of the memorial window to Mr. Davis — 
Make the oration at the unveiling of the statuette to Mr. Davis 
in the Confederate Museum — The old Confederate "White 
House" — Present my sword and letters from President Davis 
and General Lee to the Museum — Letter from Mrs. Davis on 
the subject of Prince Polignac's canard about his mission to 
France for the purpose of selling the State of Louisiana . . 463 

CHAPTER LVn 

The hero of Manila Bay — Distinguished dead who were my friends 

— Some learned societies which have honored me — "Peace at 
any price" 468 

CHAPTER LVni 

The "birth of a nation" — Assistant manager of the Washington 
branch of the International Banking Corporation — Extracts 
from a diary kept on a journey to Panama — Meet my old class- 
mates Admirals Coghlan and Glass, of the "Brood of the Consti- 
tution" — My old hulk is laid up in ordinary waiting to be 
scrapped 474 

INDEX 483 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

James Morris Morgan Frontispiece ^ 

Midshipman James Morris Morgan, C.S.N., at the Age of 

Fifteen 52 '^ 

U.S. Sloop-of-War Richmond, of Farragut's Fleet . . .56" 

From a drawing made at the Philadelphia Navy Yard in 1872 

C.S. Ram Manassas, which rammed the Richmond . . .56 

From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt 

C.S.S. McRae, Commodore Hollins's Flagship, coaling at ^ 

Baton Rouge, 1861 60 ' 

U.S. Ironclad Galena 82 

From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt after photographs and official plans 

C.S. Ironclad Chicora, on which the Author served at 
Charleston 82 ' 

From a drawing by R. G. Skerrelt 

Hon. George A. Trenholm, Secretary of the C.S. Treasury 92'-^ 

From a painting 

Captain W. L. Maury, commanding the Georgia .... 114 v 

From a contemporary photograph taken at Cherbourg 

C.S. Cruiser Georgia 118 

From a photograph taken at Cherbourg 

Midshipman Morgan while attached to the Cruiser Georgia, 

1863 126 

Major W. P. A. Campbell, formerly of the C.S. Navy . .170 

From a photograph taken in Cairo in 1870 

C.S.S. Patrick Henry, Confederate Naval School Ship, on 
the James River below Richmond, 1864 204 ' 

From a painting by Clary-Ray 

Colonel Beverly Kennon, Coast Defense, Egyptian Army . 208 

From a photograph taken in Alexandria 

Lieutenant-Colonel Morgan, of the Egyptian Army . . 266 

From a photograph taken in Cairo in 1870 

Napoleon, the Bounding Horse 278 

General W. W. Loring 298 

From a photograph taken in Cairo 

Dr. M. Amador, First President of the Republic of Panama, 
1903 476 



RECOLLECTIONS 
OF A REBEL REEFER 



CHAPTER I 

Childhood — "Billy Bowlegs" — The Choctaws — Blowing up and burning 
of the steamboat Princess — Charloe and Katish — Throwing the lasso — 
Buck-jumpers. 

Born in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana, in 1845, — 
the youngest of nine children, — my parents indulged me 
as only the youngest of a large family or an only child is 
spoiled, and they were very ably assisted by my elder 
brothers and sisters. My old black nurse, Katish, played 
no unimportant r6le in the coddling process. 

According to the family legends I commenced my ad- 
ventures at an early age. When I could barely toddle I 
strayed away from the house and was found stranded in 
a gutter and brought home in a most sorry plight. In this 
day, when it is considered the proper thing to boast of one's 
lowly beginnings, that story ought at least to have secured 
me a seat in the halls of Congress, but it did n't. Another 
thriller told me of the adventures of my babyhood was 
that once, when I was playing near a pond at Pascagoula, 
a huge alligator was seen slowly creeping toward me when 
my French governess rushed to the rescue and bravely 
bore me out of danger. She was ever afterwards regarded 
as a heroine. 

When I was five years of age, my father. Judge Thomas 
Gibbes Morgan, with his family returned to Baton Rouge, 
where he had lived prior to his having been appointed Col- 
lector of the Port of New Orleans. Baton Rouge at that 
time was a pretty little town of some three thousand in- 



2 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

habitants. It is situated on the first high ground as one 
ascends the river from the Gulf of Mexico. The bluff is at 
least thirty feet high and before I commenced my travels 
I thought that it must be the tallest hill in the world. 

At that time there was a United States Arsenal and quite 
a large garrison there, mostly composed of heroes who had 
two or three years before that time conquered Mexico. I 
loved the soldiers, and one of the officers. Lieutenant Drum, 
afterwards adjutant-general of the United States Army for 
many years, loved my eldest sister, so we got on famously 
together. 

General Zachary Taylor had a cottage in the garrison 
grounds and his famous old war-horse "Whitey" had the 
freedom of the beautiful grassy lawns, and the greatest de- 
light of my life was to be placed on the gentle old charger's 
back, without saddle or bridle, and sit there while "Old 
Whitey" grazed, not paying as much attention to me as 
he would have bestowed upon a fly. From that time until 
I was fourteen my life was principally spent on horseback. 
I mean by horseback, the backs of those savage little ponies 
we called "mustangs" which existed in herds in a wild 
state in that part of the country in those days. They be- 
longed to the man who could first lasso and put his brand 
upon them. These ponies were past-masters in the art of 
bucking, and from their backs I have probably hit the 
ground in a greater variety of ways than any other man 
now living, but as my steeds had never been put through a 
course of the haul ecole before I mounted them, my horse- 
manship should not be judged by the number of croppers 
I have come in my time. 

There are certain events in a child's life which make an 
impression that time itself cannot eft'ace. One of these is 
so vivid that, after a lapse of sixty-five years, I can shut 
my eyes and again see a crowd of men and women standing 
on the river-bank wildly gesticulating and vowing that 
they would be revenged upon a band of Seminole Indians 



Burning of the Steamboat Princess 3 

who were being transported from Florida to the Indian 
Territory. Their chief, the famously cruel "Billy Bow- 
legs," was with them, and so violent were the people on 
shore in their threats that the captain of the steamboat 
did not dare to approach the shore. He was wise, as many 
in that excitable crowd, myself among the number, had 
had relatives cruelly tortured and murdered by these same 
Indians in the Seminole War. My uncle, Bedford Morgan, 
was one of their victims, having been scalped and his body 
so horribly mutilated that it was only recognized by the 
fact that his faithful dog stood guard over it. 

In those days there were still Indians in Louisiana. A 
band of "Choctaws" lived on the Amite River, a few miles 
back of Baton Rouge, who used to bring into the town, for 
sale or barter, their bead- and basket-work and blow-guns 
made out of cane poles. The arrows of these blow-guns 
were made of split cane with a tuft of thistle at one end and 
we boys delighted in the ownership of these long and ap- 
parently harmless weapons. I say apparently harmless, 
but in the hande of an Indian they were very deadly to 
birds and squirrels. The Indians were wonderful shots with 
them and at twenty or thirty paces could hit a small silver 
five-cent piece; always provided they were promised the 
coin if they hit it. 

I have a vivid recollection of a tragedy which happened 
in those days which often troubles the dreams of my old 
age. I was an eye-witness of the blowing-up and destruc- 
tion by fire of the Princess, the finest steamboat on the 
Mississippi in those days. The night before the disaster 
my father and mother had kissed me good-bye and gone 
on board of an old dismantled steamboat, which answered 
the purposes of a wharf, to await the arrival of the Prin- 
cess, as they intended to take passage on her for New Or- 
leans. Early the next morning I went down to the river 
to find out if they had yet left. The Princess had just 
drawn out into the stream, and as I stood watching her as 



4 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

she glided down the river a great column of white smoke 
suddenly went up from her and she burst into flames. She 
was loaded with cotton. As though by magic the inhabi- 
tants of the town gathered at the riverside and in the crowd 
I spied my brother-in-law, Charles La Noue, in a buggy. 
He called to me; I jumped in alongside of him and we 
dashed down the river road in the direction of the burning 
boat. The road was rough and the horse was fast. The high 
levee on our right shut out the view of the river, so we could 
only see the great column of smoke. On our left were the 
endless fields of sugar cane, with an occasional glimpse of 
a planter's house set in a grove of pecan trees. 

At last, in a great state of excitement, we arrived at the 
plantation of Mr. Conrad. "Brother Charlie" jumped out 
of the vehicle and ran toward the house while I made the 
horse fast to a tree. I then mounted the levee from where 
I could see floating cotton bales with people on them ; men 
in skiff's, from both sides of the river, were rescuing the 
poor terror-stricken creatures and bringing them ashore. 
From the levee I rushed into the park in front of Mr. 
Conrad's residence and there saw a sight which can never 
be. effaced from my memory. Mr. Conrad had had sheets 
laid on the ground amidst the trees and barrels of flour 
were broken open and the contents poured over the sheets. 
As fast as the burned and scalded people were pulled out 
of the river they were seized by the slaves and, while 
screaming and shrieking with pain and fright, they were 
forcibly thrown down on the sheets and rolled in the flour. 
The clothes had been burned off of many of them. Some, 
in their agony, could not lie still, and, with the white sheets 
wrapped round them, looking like ghosts, they danced a 
weird hornpipe while filling the air with their screams. 
Terrified by the awful and uncanny scene, I hid behind a 
huge tree so that I should not see it, but no tree could pre- 
vent me from hearing those awful cries and curses which 
echo in my ears even now. 



Katish 5 

Suddenly, to my horror, one of the white specters, 
wrapped in a sheet, his^disfigured face plastered over with 
flour, staggered toward my hiding-place, and before I could 
run away from the hideous object it extended its arms to- 
ward me and quietly said, "Don't be afraid, Jimmie. It 
is me, Mr. Cheatham. I am dying — hold my hand!" 
And he sank upon the turf beside me. Although dread- 
fully frightened, I managed between sobs to ask the ques- 
tion uppermost in my mind: "Can you tell me where I 
can find my father and mother?" The ghostlike man only 
replied with a cry which seemed to wrench his soul from 
his body. He shivered for an instant, and then lay still. 
A slave passing by pointed to the body and casually re- 
marked, "He done dead." 

A Creole negro woman then came running toward me; 
she was stout and almost out of breath, but was still able 
to shout out to me in her native patois : "Mo cherche pour 
toi partout; M'sieur La Noue dit que to vinit toute suite!" 
When I found " Brother Charlie," he was ministering to the 
maimed, but found time to tell me that my parents had 
taken another boat which had stopped at Baton Rouge in 
the night and thereby had saved their lives. I returned 
at once to my home, where I was comforted in the strong 
arms of Katish, my old black nurse. 

Katish was a character whose fame was known far and 
wide through the little town. She was a strapping big 
woman who weighed over two hundred pounds, but as 
active as a young girl. She had been my mother's maid 
before my mother was married and afterwards had nursed 
and bossed all of her children. I being the youngest was, 
of course, her special pet. She ran the establishment to 
suit my father's and mother's comfort and convenience and 
ruled the children and the slaves to suit herself ; but we all 
loved her, and no other hand could soothe a fevered child's 
pillow as could the black hand of Katish. When we were 
ill she never seemed to sleep, but sat by our bedsides until 



6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

we were well. The nastiest medicine (and there were nasty 
medicines in those days) lost much of its terrors when 
administered by Katish. 

Charloe, Katish's husband, was a dried-up, weazened 
little man of a shiny black complexion; he always insisted 
that his stature had been stunted when he was a jockey 
by the horse-trainers putting him on too light a diet and 
burying him up to his neck in the manure-box for too long 
a time when it was necessary to reduce his weight suffi- 
ciently to ride two-year-old colts. He had been a cele- 
brated jockey in his day when he rode for his then owner, 
Mr. Duplantier, a planter who amused himself with a race- 
horse stable. Charloe was my hero, he was a perfect black 
"Admirable Crichton." It is true that he could neither 
read nor write, nor did he know a note of music, but many 
a so-called educated white man envied him his accomplish- 
ments. He spoke French, Spanish, and English fluently, 
and played the violin like a virtuoso. His elegant manners 
were above criticism. He made beautiful rings and bangles 
out of tortoise-shell with only his pocket-knife, a round 
stick, and a pot of hot water for his tools. He was also an 
adept at making fancy ropes for bridle reins and girths out 
of horsehair. 

In 1846 Charloe went to Mexico with Dr. Harney, an 
army surgeon, and brother of General Harney, and re- 
mained there until the army came home. Of course if he 
had wanted his freedom he could have remained in that 
country where some of the highest aristocrats have a touch 
of the tar brush in their veins. 

Charloe was very much of a gentleman of leisure. He 
paid his master a certain sum of money every month and 
spent his time riding around the country. He was the vet- 
erinarian of the town and was very successful in curing 
horses of all sorts of disease, and probably knew too much 
about spavined horses and how to fix them up so they 
would be attractive to the innocent and ignorant would-be 



Charloe 7 

purchaser. Besides this he made lots of money training 
horses for gentlemen and also devoted much of his leisure 
to catching and breaking wild horses which he sold for 
good money after he had handled them for a short time and 
put some style into their gaits. He was a wonder with the 
lasso and rarely if ever missed catching a horse, and in 
this sport he was most ably assisted by his horse "Ben," 
who knew almost as much as Charloe did about the busi- 
ness. 

The slaves had a means of communicating with distant 
plantations which was always a mystery to their owners. 
During the Civil War my mother and three of my sisters 
were refugees in a little Mississippi village, and were with- 
out money and in danger of starvation, as they could not 
communicate with my elder brother in New Orleans or 
with friends in Baton Rouge. But hostile armies and 
picket lines were not obstacles of much importance to 
Katish when she wanted to get word to Charloe of the 
condition of the family — Charloe being in Baton Rouge, 
within the Union lines, and more than a hundred miles 
away. Charloe immediately mounted his horse and with- 
out much difficulty managed to pass through both the 
Federal and Confederate lines and carried to my mother 
quite a large sum of real money which he gave to her, and 
which greatly relieved the distress of the family, especially 
as my sister, Mrs. La Noue, had a family of little children 
who were crying for bread. It must be remembered that 
Charloe was of course a freedman as long as he remained 
within the Union lines, but knew that he again became a 
slave when he entered the territory held by the Confed- 
erates. 

Until I was thirteen years of age I was the constant com- 
panion of Charloe. When I was a baby, mounted on his 
horse, he would carry me around with him, and I do not 
remember the time when I first rode a horse by myself. 
My father was a lawyer with a very large practice, and a 



8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

very busy man; and my mother was in very delicate health. 
I was a pupil, or supposed to be one, at Professor Magru- 
der's Academy, the best school in Baton Rouge ; but I only 
attended when it suited my convenience, such as rainy 
days, or when some interesting game was going on at the 
school, or when Charloe was not going after the wild 
horses. Since those days I have hunted the wily fox 
with the "Pytchley" in England, and with Alfred and 
Burnett Rhett and Frank Trenholm and Colonel Tom 
Taylor in South Carolina, but in my opinion fox-hunting 
is tame sport in comparison with the chase after wild 
horses. 

Under Charloe's tuition I learned to throw the lasso, and 
if it was an easy chance he always allowed me to throw 
first; but I had no fear of the result, for if I missed I knew 
that I would hear the swish of Charloe's rope which with 
deadly accuracy would land its loop over the head of the 
poor terrified beast which had never before felt the power 
of man. I remember vividly once, when we had turned a 
herd of horses from a swamp for which they were headed, 
how they dashed into a canebrake, the cane poles being 
from ten to fifteen feet high and almost as close together 
as the fingers on one's hand. The wild horses smashed their 
way through and we followed closely at their heels holding 
the nooses of our lassos in one hand and our reins in the 
other while our heads were busily engaged in dodging the 
muscadine vines which hung in festoons from the great 
trees which grew among the canes. Suddenly we came 
crashing into an old clearing. Charloe was just ahead of 
me and this was his opportunity. Instantly his lasso com- 
menced to describe graceful circles over his head, and hav- 
ing selected his victim the loop shot out of his hand and 
straight as an arrow sailed away. The loop expanded and 
like a hawk ready to strike, it hovered for an instant over 
the frightened animal's head. It was impossible for the 
poor creature to dodge it, and it settled around his neck. 



Throwing the Lasso 9 

Now came "Ben's" part in the performance, and he knew 
as much about the game as his rider did. He was going at 
breakneck speed, but the instant the noose left Charloe's 
hand, stiff-legged, he planted both front feet in the soft 
ground and as soon as he had stopped his momentum he 
reared up and swung himself around. Ben knew that the 
end of that lasso was made fast to the pommel of his saddle 
and unless he took the strain down his spinal column he 
would be jerked onto his nose. As it was, it was the other 
horse that turned a summersault as the rope checked his 
wild career, and before he could regain his feet Charloe 
was on the ground and had deftly tied them. He was then 
quickly blindfolded and a bridle without bit, but with a 
tight-fitting halter to keep him from biting, — it was 
called a "bosal" — and prevented the animal from opening 
his jaws, — was fitted to him. Then his feet were untied 
and he was made to stand up, still blindfolded. My sad- 
dle was then cinched with a hair girth onto him, and I 
mounted. Charloe then suddenly jerked the cloth from the 
pony's eyes and the fun commenced. The animal was 
dazed for a moment and then he reached his head around 
and tried to bite my foot. Finding it impossible to do so, 
he lowered his head until it was between his forelegs, at 
the same time arching his back, and leaped straight up 
into the air landing on the ground stiff -legged, and followed 
this performance up with a series of bucks both forward, 
backward, and sideways, until I though he never would 
have done. I had to stay there until he gave up, for if once 
he had got rid of me he would have become a confirmed 
bucker and would have tried to get rid of his rider in that 
way ever afterwards. These mustang ponies had innately 
every conceivable horse vice such as bucking, biting, 
pawing, and kicking, besides being endowed with a good 
memory. When the pony was exhausted he gave up, and 
I, also weary, was glad to dismount. When the ordeal was 
over, Charloe simply said, "Bien, tres bien." "Praise from 



10 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Sir Hubert was praise indeed," and I felt immensely 
pleased at Charloe's approval of my horsemanship. Scenes 
like this constituted my school of equitation, so it was not 
extraordinary that years afterwards I succeeded in aston- 
ishing the Bedouins in Egypt with some of my feats. 



CHAPTER II 

Unlucky in love — The home of a Louisiana aristocrat — Hospitality and 
lengthy visits — The sugar-house — Appointed a midshipman — The only 
Southern man who could not whip ten Yankees — Religious mania — Fortress 
Monroe — Mexican pulque. 

I HAD Other pleasures besides chasing wild horses. I used 
to delight in going to beautiful Lynwood, the plantation of 
General Carter in the parish of East Feliciana, and some 
twenty miles from Baton Rouge. Howell Carter, one of 
the general's sons, was near my own age and we were great 
friends, and Howell had a beautiful sister whom I adored: 
the fact that she was a young lady in society made no differ- 
ence to me. She acknowledged that I was her sweetheart 
and it was heaven for me to stand by the piano while she 
sang for me ; and besides, my favorite brother, Gibbes, some 
ten years my senior, approved of my choice and compli- 
mented my good taste. One day Gibbes and Lydia Carter 
got married and it took me a long time to recover from the 
effects of their treachery. Gibbes was the last man I would 
have suspected of being my rival. 

I also used to spend a great deal of time at the Hope Es- 
tate Plantation, about four miles below Baton Rouge. Col- 
onel Philip Hicky, its owner, was the most elegant and the 
grandest old gentleman I ever knew. He was a man of great 
wealth and unbounded hospitality. He was tall, slim, and 
straight, and his manner was most courtly. His welcome 
to a guest, whether self-invited or not, made the recipient 
feel very much at home as well as good all over. He was 
a patriarch of the olden time and lived with his children, 
grandchildren, and great-grandchildren around him. The 
old plantation house seemed to be made of india rubber. 
There was always room for a few more. I have sat at his 
table when with his family and guests more than thirty 



12 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

people sat down to dinner and this was not an unusual 
occasion, but a thing that happened nearly every day, as 
his home was convenient to the town and all of his ac- 
quaintances knew they would receive a warm welcome if 
they took a ride and dropped in to dinner. I knew a lady 
who paid a visit to Hope Estate which lasted for more than 
fifteen years, and of a gentleman who paid a call one morn- 
ing when he was a very young man and never left until his 
hair was white and the old colonel had been dead for some 
years. 

One of my father's brothers and one of my mother's 
brothers had married daughters of Colonel Hicky, and 
their children and the other grandchildren ranged in years 
from young gentlemen and ladies old enough to go into 
society, to boys and girls of my own age. There was a herd 
of horses which roamed about the great pasture and every 
child had his mount — the young ladies and gentlemen of 
the family disdained mustang ponies and possessed highly 
bred Kentucky saddlers. The great event of the year at 
Hope Estate was when the sugar-making season arrived. 
Then all was life and bustle : the fires were lighted and the 
open kettles of cane juice began to boil while the slaves 
feeding cane to the carrier which carried it to the great 
iron rollers would burst into song. The sugar-house was 
some distance from the residence and when night came the 
young people and their guests would mount their horses 
and proceed there to eat colon (taffy) and drink vin de cane 
(sugar-cane juice) into which some of the older people 
would put a little spirits if they felt so disposed. With the 
glare of the furnaces and of the torches around the carrier, 
it was a pretty picture and of course the young people 
danced — they always did in the South in those days when 
two or three boys and girls got together. Toward mid- 
night a start for home was in order. We boys always got 
off ahead of the older people. The narrow road lay be- 
tween fields of tall waving and rustling cane calculated in 



Appointed a Midshipman 13 

the night to make highly imaginative young people feel 
creepy. As we approached a certain bridge over a small 
draining canal, every boy knew what was coming and sat 
closer to his saddle as he took a fresh and stronger grip 
with his knees. As the leader's horse's feet touched the 
bridge his rider would give a whoop and cry, "Runaway 
nigger!" and in would go the spurs and there would be a 
wild race for the house, each boy pretending to be fright- 
ened to death, although we all knew that such a thing as a 
"runaway nigger" had never been seen in that part of the 
country. Slaves there were treated like human beings, and 
the threat to sell one would tame the most refractory negro 
on the place. 

Some of the sugar planters in the neighborhood of Baton 
Rouge were mean enough to object to the town boys de- 
vasting their sugar-cane fields. It certainly was marvel- 
ous to see how many stalks of cane a small boy could de- 
vour. There was a Mr. Hall who owned a large plantation 
which commenced at the town limits, and on the line he 
planted early and told the boys that that particular sugar- 
cane was for them, but such is the contrariness of boys that 
we never touched it, preferring to raid the fields of planters 
who promised to do all kinds of things to us if they caught 
us on their grounds. 

It was amidst such scenes as I have tried to describe that 
my life was spent until I arrived at the age of fourteen, 
when one day Mr. Edouard Bouligny, a member of Con- 
gress, offered me an appointment as a midshipman. I nat- 
urally became wild with excitement, for as I had never 
seen blue water, I longed for a life on the ocean wave. The 
only unpleasant prospect was that it was impressed upon 
me that I would have to attend school regularly and study 
hard to prepare myself for the examination for admission 
into the United States Naval Academy. Besides my back- 
wardness in my school work another difficulty which was 
suggested was my size, as I was small for my age; but it 



14 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

turned out that in those days smallness of stature was not 
taken into consideration if a boy could stand the examina- 
tions. So I turned over a new leaf and attended school 
and studied conscientiously until one day a difference of 
opinion arose between Mr. Parsons, a six-foot Yankee 
teacher, and myself. I felt a sudden desire to lick him, and 
to want and to have, with me, in those days were synony- 
mous terms, so I sailed in with the intention of gratifying 
my longing. Gee ! What that Yankee school-teacher did 
not do to me is not worth relating. Fortunately for my 
self-respect I had not then heard the expression which 
became so popular in the South a year or two later, — 
"One Southern man can whip ten Yankees," — but I de- 
cided that Magruder's Academy was no place for a gentle- 
man and an officer, in futuro, so I severed my connection 
with it on the spot. 

My elder brother, Judge Morgan, then took a hand in 
the game and came to Baton Rouge from New Orleans and 
carried me off to a school managed by a Mr. McNair, and 
situated in a forest of gigantic yellow pine trees, the near- 
est inhabited place being the little village of Amite, about 
sixty miles from New Orleans. One would imagine that 
this was the ideal place for undisturbed study, but it was 
not. It was the most melancholy place I was ever in, es- 
pecially when night came. The sighing and moaning of 
the big pine trees when the wind blew, and the deathly 
stillness, only broken by the sad notes of the whippoorwills, 
when it was calm, were enough to have given any one the 
creeps — especially a boy who had never before been away 
from home. 

Everything at the school went on like clockwork, and 
the hundred or more boys seemed contented until one day 
a very popular boy returned from his home, where he had 
been to attend a funeral, and where he had also "got reli- 
gion" (of the virulent Mississippi type) at a camp-meeting. 
He at once proceeded to inaugurate prayer meetings. There 



Religious Mania 15 

was a huge pine tree a little way from the schoolhouse and 
the ground at its base was thickly carpeted by pine needles. 
They were convenient, clean, and soft, and one could kneel 
upon them with comfort. At first only two or three boys, 
religiously inclined, joined him; but soon the number in- 
creased so rapidly that other trees had to be requisitioned, 
and then rivalry commenced as to which of the little con- 
gregations could exhibit the best prayer-maker. Finally, 
with one exception (myself), every boy in the school was 
taken with religious mania which spread amongst the assis- 
tant teachers. Mr. McNair at first tried to moderate the 
enthusiasm, but soon fell a victim to the contagion. Every 
boy wanted to lead in prayer and quarrels soon arose as to 
who could offer up the most eloquent one. Study hours 
and recitations were alike forgotten — even the meals 
were postponed until some boy could finish telling the good 
Lord his woes. In the morning we would assemble in the 
schoolroom at the usual hour and of course the routine of 
the day would commence by Mr. McNair reading a chap- 
ter of the Bible and offering up a prayer; then, instead of 
proceeding with the lessons, one boy after another would 
rise in his place and recount his religious experience. There 
was a remarkable resemblance in these experiences which 
consisted chiefly in the boys telling their audience what 
fearful sinners their parents and elder brothers and sisters 
were, and how pure, perfect, and holy they themselves had 
become since, single-handed, they had come off victorious 
in a fierce conflict with the Devil, captured glory, and be- 
come one of the elect. This sort of thing went on all day 
and far into the night. Of course it could not go on forever, 
and the news soon spread far and wide that McNair's whole 
school had gone crazy. 

Parents came from every direction. The storm was about 
to burst and break up the school. I was the first to be struck 
by the lightning. I was sitting at my desk listening to one 
of the very best of the young exhorters, who was eloquently 



1 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

describing the imaginary crimes of which his fond mother 
was guilty, and unfolding his plan of campaign by which 
he hoped to save her from the claws of the Devil and re- 
form her at the same time, when a hand the size of a small 
ham seized me by the back of the neck and awoke me from 
my trance. I jumped to my feet and squirmed around to 
find myself in front of the gigantic form of my brother, 
Judge Philip Hicky Morgan, his handsome face purple with 
rage. "You come with me, sir!" he fairly bellowed, and 
I never got out of any place so quickly before that I can 
remember of. 

Accompanied by Judge Morgan's wife and her little 
children, I was put on board of a steamship at New Or- 
leans bound for New York and from there sent to Rutland, 
Vermont, where it was proposed to put me at school, but 
with vivid memories of the thrashing Mr. Parsons had 
given me I did not intend to take any more chances with a 
Yankee school-teacher, so I flatly refused to go. In despair, 
my sister-in-law sent me to my eldest sister, the wife of 
Lieutenant Drum, he being then the adjutant at Fortress 
Monroe. 

The gayety of "Old Point Comfort" and the dancing 
morn, noon, and night at the hotel, combined with the 
brilliant uniforms of the officers and the military drills and 
parades, suited my taste exactly, and I thought I had at 
last found the life I wanted to live. But Lieutenant Drum 
had different views. He put me through an examination 
and found me woefully wanting, and without so much as 
consulting me, he determined that I should not fail at 
Annapolis. He elected himself chief school-teacher, bought 
the necessary books, and insisted that I should spend a 
certain number of hours every day at my studies while he 
superintended them. One day it was hot and uncomfor- 
table, and a contrary problem would not come out right 
and I was cross. Lieutenant Drum was a stubborn man and 
insisted that I should keep at it. I lost my temper and 



Fortress Monroe 17 

threw the book at him and for my pains got an awfully 
good thrashing. Think of it! The war had not yet com- 
menced and here within a year I had twice been thoroughly 
licked by two Yankees. Thank Heaven, I had not as yet 
met the other eight that were to make up the ten I was 
shortly afterwards expected to whip. 

While I was at Fortress Monroe the sloop-of-war Plym- 
outh, the Annapolis practice ship, arrived with the mid- 
shipmen on board. They had just returned from their 
annual cruise and I went fairly wild about them, especially 
as some of them condescended to notice me after they 
learned that I had prospects of becoming one of their num- 
ber. I almost felt grateful to Lieutenant Drum for that 
thrashing which had had a remarkable effect in developing 
my genius for mathematics. 

Shortly after the Plymouth left, the steam sloop-of-war 
Brooklyn, commanded by Commander, afterwards Ad- 
miral, David G. Farragut, arrived. She was just about 
to start on what was known as the " Cheriqui Expedition" 
for the purpose of finding a new route for a canal across the 
Isthmus of Panama. The army officers in the Fort enter- 
tained the officers of the ship and the officers of the Brook- 
lyn returned the compliment by giving a reception on 
board. My sister insisted on my accompanying her, but 
I did not want to go. The midshipmen on the Plymouth 
had told me a lot about naval commanders and lieutenants 
and I already regarded them as the natural enemies of 
midshipmen. However, I was told that Commander Farra- 
gut had his son Loyal, a boy of about my own age, on 
board, and I was finally persuaded to go. My sister intro- 
duced me to Commander Farragut and the great man, 
when he was told that I had an appointment to Annapolis, 
unbent somewhat and asked me what I intended to bring 
my sister when I returned from my first cruise. Now, as 
ill luck would have it, my sister greatly admired lapis- 
lazuli stones and I blurted out, "I am going to bring her a 



1 8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

set of lapsus linguae, sir!" There was a roar of laughter 
amidst which I made my escape. I knew I had made a bad 
break, but what it was exactly I did not understand. All 
the same I felt awfully mortified. Years afterwards I had 
the honor of meeting the great admiral and to my aston- 
ishment and confusion he asked me if I had ever procured 
that set of lapsus linguae for my sister. 

While at Fortress Munroe I saw an interesting test of a 
piece of ordnance, the "Sawyer" gun, the first rifled can- 
non invented in the United States. The gun was mounted 
outside of the Fort on the beach. The officers had little 
confidence in it and every precaution was taken to avoid 
accidents. Lieutenant Drum and I stood by a shed some 
fifty yards away. The gun was fired and exploded — one 
half of the breech going up into the air; coming down it 
struck the weatherboarding just over our heads and for- 
tunately glanced inside instead of outside the shed where 
we were standing. 

The Honorable Jacob Thompson, of Mississippi, who 
was Secretary of the Interior in Mr. Buchanan's Cabinet, 
came to Old Point one day and Colonel Dimmick, who was 
in command, called on him at the Hygeia Hotel. Mr. 
Thompson was not in. Mr. Thompson returned the visit, 
when, unfortunately, the colonel was out driving. Neither 
man had ever seen the other. Colonel Dimmick then sent 
his adjutant to tender a review to the Secretary for the 
next morning. The secretary was so late in appearing on 
the parade-ground that the colonel, losing patience, de- 
tailed an officer to meet Mr. Thompson when he should 
arrive, saying that as soon as Mr. Thompson was in posi- 
tion, he, the colonel, would lead the regiment past. 

The Fourth Artillery, which garrisoned the Fort, pos- 
sessed a drum major of whom they were very proud. He 
was nearly seven feet tall, and with his great bearskin bon- 
net he looked like one of the giants one reads about in 
fairy tales, and his strut and the deftness with which he 



Mexican Pulque 19 

twirled his gilt baton were inimitable. The dignified com- 
manding officer was rather small in stature and not at all 
an imposing figure in comparison with his drum major. 
As Mr. Thompson took up his position, the band com- 
menced to play and the regiment moved like clockwork 
behind it. Arriving in front of the secretary the drum 
major sent his baton into the air, and catching it as it de- 
scended he made it whirl several times and suddenly landed 
it under his left arm, his right hand simultaneously, like 
that of a mechanical man, going to his forehead in salute. 
Mr. Thompson lifted his hat and then fairly swept the 
ground with it. After the band came little Colonel Dim- 
mick, who with graceful precision saluted with his sword, 
but by that time the secretary had recovered his equilib- 
rium from his low bow to the drum major and with his 
arms folded across his swelled chest gazed indifferently at 
the commanding officer and took no further notice of him. 
After the review he was introduced to the colonel, and re- 
marked, " I always thought the captain walked at the head 
of his troops!" 

There was in the Fourth Artillery a number of officers 
who were veterans of the Mexican War. One of them had 
but one arm. It seems that in those days they did not re- 
tire an officer on account of the loss of an arm if he was 
capable of attending to his duties. One evening a dreadful 
contretemps happened. It was at the wedding festivities 
of the colonel's daughter. The wedding ceremony was over 
and the guests thronged into the banquet hall, when Lieu- 
tenant Drum produced three bottles of Mexican pulque. 
The bottles were carefully corked and sealed, and the lieu- 
tenant had himself filled them and brought them home 
after the evacuation of Mexico some thirteen years previ- 
ously. The younger officers were told that only Mexican 
veterans could appreciate pulque, and therefore they were 
not to be permitted to taste of the nectar, as there was so 
little of it. Three of the veterans procured three corkscrews 



20 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and simultaneously pulled the corks. Suddenly people 
began to sniff as though they had smelt something. They 
had — there was a sauve qui pent from the supper-room and 
the remainder of the function had to be carried on in the 
grounds outside the house. Mr. Drum and his brother vet- 
erans had forgotten that pulque could only be drunk when 
fresh from the plant and that in a few hours after it was 
gathered it became putrid. Any one who has ever passed 
down a street in the City of Mexico, where pulque shops 
exist, and smelt the foul odors that burden the air can 
sympathize with the merry-makers at the wedding. 



CHAPTER III 

Annapolis — "Old Ironsides" — The habit of command — Show remark- 
able leniency toward the midshipman's hereditary enemies, the commandant 
and lieutenants — The "brood of the Constitution" — "Bill Pip," our first 
hero — Other heroes — Skating on thin ice — The bilged — Secession. 

In September, i860, I went to Annapolis and presented 
myself before the Board of Examiners for admittance. The 
dignity and solemnity of the officers who, arrayed in their 
uniforms with their swords beside them, sat at a long table, 
caused me to have a slight attack of stage fright; but the 
ordeal was soon over and I was allowed to go out in the fresh 
air in utter ignorance as to whether I had passed success- 
fully or not. My mind, however, was soon relieved by 
Lieutenant Scott, who passing by said to me, "Youngster, 
you are all right." 

The historical frigate Constitution ("Old Ironsides") 
had recently been fitted out as a schoolship and lay at anchor 
in the Severn River. I was directed to go on board of her 
and found on her deck a number of other boys as green as 
myself. Things went very easily at first, as we had nothing 
to do besides loafing about the decks and wondering at the 
strangeness of our surroundings. We had no wants, unless 
it was a longing for the cute little jackets with the brass 
buttons and the beautiful gold anchors on the lapels of the 
turned-down collars. The captain and the lieutenants were 
just too sweet for anything, answering our fool questions as 
though their one object in life was to please us. But we 
were ungrateful and took much more interest in the boat- 
swain's mates, and the old gray-haired sailors who kept the 
ship clean and spun yarns. The sailors first initiated us in 
the mysteries of getting our hammocks ready and how to 
swing them on the berth deck, and also how to lash them 
up in the morning when we "turned out" preparatory to 



22 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

stowing them snugly in the hammock nettings. Everything 
was going on pleasantly until one day, to our great delight, 
our uniforms arrived ; they were so pretty that it seemed a 
pity they should make such a difference in our happy lives, 
but such was the fact. We had no sooner got into our regu- 
lation togs than a great change in the demeanor of every- 
body else seemed to take place. Those affable and chummy 
lieutenants who an hour before had treated us almost as 
equals, even condescending to joke with us, now stood on 
their dignity, and if they spoke at all it was to give an order 
or a reproof. The old sailors gravely saluted us as they 
passed, but they would not stop for a little conversation. 
I wondered what we had done to deserve such treatment, 
but I was not long in finding out. With the uniform I had 
come under naval discipline ; and it was extraordinary how 
those soft-spoken lieutenants licked us into shape. I, who 
had never obeyed anybody, within less than a week would 
jump as though I was shot when one of them would give me 
an order. The routine of the ship had commenced in earnest 
— reveille, dress (and woe betide him who had lost a button 
or whose shoestring was not properly tied), lash the ham- 
mocks, carry them up to the spar deck and stow them neatly 
in the nettings ; breakfast ; recitation ; drill at the great guns ; 
recitation ; infantry drill ; recitation ; cutlass exercise ; recita- 
tion; dinner; recitation; boat drill, or loosing, reefing, or 
furling sail. After supper were the study hours until nine 
o'clock, and then, after slinging our hammocks, discipline 
was suspended and we were allowed half an hour to skylark 
and have a little rough house — which would always be 
interrupted, as taps sounded, by the hoarse voice of the 
master-at-arms bellowing, "Silence, fore and aft, gentle- 
men!" 

My young sisters at home were constantly, at this time, 
writing me letters filled with good advice and begging me to 
control my temper and to be kind to those nice navy officers, 
samples of whom they had met only at cotillions, and little 



The " Brood of the Constitution " 23 

did they dream how those so gentle and elegant gentlemen 
could on occasion roar like bulls of Bashan and scare a 
midshipman out of seven years' growth. They also implored 
me not to get frisky and try to lasso the commandant of 
midshipmen. To those who knew the late Rear Admiral 
C. R. P. Rodgers, that embodiment of dignity and elegance, 
I need not say that I followed my sisters' advice. 

The drill I most enjoyed was when we were exercised 
aloft making and furling sail. The masts of the old frig- 
ate were very tall, and when the officer of the deck through 
his speaking-trumpet would give the order, "All hands 
make sail!" we would rush to our stations and stand close 
to the rails anxious and impatient as young race-horses 
at the starting barrier. At the order, "Aloft, t'gallant 
and royal yardmen!" "Aloft, topmen!" "Aloft, lower 
yardmen!" we would spring into the shrouds, and hardly 
touching the ratlines with our twinkling feet, a perfect 
stream of midshipmen would dash up to the highest yards 
decreasing in numbers on the shrouds as they reached their 
stations. Then they would step on to the foot ropes and 
crowd as closely as possible to the mast until the order was 
given to "lay out and loose!" when they would go out on 
the yardarms and cast off the gaskets. Then would come the 
orders in rapid succession, "Let fall!" "Sheet home!" 
"Lay in!" "Lay down from aloft!" — when as though by 
magic the bare poles would be hidden by her snow-white 
canvas from her trucks to her deck, and the midshipmen, 
helter-skelter, would come jumping from ratline to ratline 
until they reached the deck, while some of the more venture- 
some would leap to a backstay and slide down with fearful 
velocity. 

They were a gay and reckless set of boys, but the " Brood 
of the Constitution" will be remembered as long as history 
is written. It is true that at that time we only had one hero 
amongst us, — that we knew of, — but others developed 
later. Our hero at the time was a red-headed, freckle-faced, 



24 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

loose-jointed, slabsided, tall, and lanky youth from the 
muleiest regions of Missouri. He first appeared on the deck 
of the Constitution dressed in coarse and baggy clothes set 
off by a huge green cravat tied in a monstrous bow-knot. 
He gazed around the deck in a supercilious sort of way, 
walked over to a hatchway, and leaned against a windsail 
that was ventilating the berth deck, with the result that 
he almost instantaneously found himself three decks below 
where he thought he was. We thought he had been killed, 
but his long arms, which he had thrown around the wind- 
sail, saved him, as he had only slid the distance rather rap- 
idly. Coming on deck he informed us that he had "slid 
down three stories.''^ He introduced himself by saying that 
his name was William Pipkin, but that they always called 
him " Bill Pip" at home for short, and that he would be just 
as well pleased if we called him that, as he was more accus- 
tomed to it. Needless to say, we accommodated him. He 
took a plug of tobacco out of his pocket, cut off a big hunk 
which he placed in his mouth, and then generously offered 
the exquisite and elegant officer of the deck, Lieutenant 
Robert Wainwright Scott, a chew, which was declined with 
a savage glare that would have caused heart failure in any 
of the rest of us, but which did not faze "Bill Pip." Shortly 
after he had got into a uniform some ladies, among them 
the wives of some of the officers, visited the ship and 
remained aboard rather late. It was getting dark when 
they made a move to go ashore, and one of them ex- 
pressed herself as being a little nervous about the long 
walk after reaching the shore. The gallant Lieutenant 
Upshur, who was the executive officer of the ship, said that 
he was sure any one of a number of midshipmen who were 
standing near would be delighted to accompany them, and 
unfortunately, for him, he called "Bill Pip," who was the 
tallest of the lot, and said, "Mr. Pipkin, I am sure you will 
be glad to escort these ladies." To the lieutenant's horror 
and amazement, the lanky boy replied, "I am very sorry, 



Other Heroes 25 

Mr. Upshur, but the last thing my mother said to me when 
I left home was, ' Bill Pip, you keep away from the women ! ' " 

But who can foretell what a boy will turn out to be? 
"Bill Pip" resigned at the outbreak of the Civil War and 
went South. He did not like the navy and refused an ap- 
pointment in that of the Confederacy. He enlisted in the 
army as a private, but the navy still pursued him. He was 
one of a number of artillerymen detailed to fill the comple- 
ment of the Arkansas's crew and was in that vessel when 
she ran through the ironclad fleet above Vicksburg and the 
wooden sloops-of-war of Admiral Farragut's fleet below 
that city. "Bill Pip" by his own gallantry and merits rose 
to the rank of full colonel in the army, and after the war 
went into business, amassed a fortune, and died a million- 
aire! 

Although we were unaware of the fact at the time there 
were other heroes on that historical deck where Bainbridge, 
Hull, and Charles Stewart, to say nothing of "Bill Pip," 
had won fame, and when the two big hawsers were stretched 
from the forecastle to the sacred quarter deck, which we 
looked upon as holy ground, and the boatswain and his 
mates took charge of the class to teach us how to tie sailor 
knots, the old white-headed captain of the maintop, if he 
had looked down upon those two lines of midshipmen who 
with short lengths of rope yam and ratline were being taught 
the difference between a square knot and a "granny," 
would have seen, among others who afterwards won fame, 
fifteen boys who were to become rear admirals — Charles 
E. Clark, who brought the Oregon around the continent at 
the outbreak of the Spanish War; Francis A. Cook, who was 
to command Commodore Schley's flagship, the Brooklyn; 
Robley D. Evans ("Fighting Bob"), who was to command 
the Iowa; and Harry Taylor, of the Indiana. These were 
the heaviest ships of Admiral Sampson's fleet when they 
destroyed the Spanish squadron at Santiago. He would 
also have seen standing there Gridley, who was to command 



26 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Admiral Dewey's flagship, the Olympia; Frank Wildes, of 
the Baltimore, and jolly Joe Coghlan, of the Raleigh, the 
three biggest ships of our fleet when they won the victory 
at Manila. He could also have seen Sigsbee, who com- 
manded the unfortunate Maine when she was destroyed in 
the harbor of Havana; Colby M. Chester, who was to com- 
mand a small squadron which was to make it possible for 
our army to take possession of Porto Rico; Crowninshield, 
who was to be chief of the Bureau of Navigation during the 
Spanish War; and Dick Leary, who fired the last shot in 
that campaign. Nearly all of the Northern boys were to 
serve during the latter part of the Civil War and partici- 
pate in the assaults on Fort Fisher and Fort Morgan. 

Among the Southerners O. A. Brown was to serve on the 
Confederate cruiser Shenandoah, the ship that went on 
destroying whalers for months after the war was over in 
blissful ignorance of the fact that the Southern Confeder- 
acy had ceased to exist. George Bryan, who was to be in 
the C.S. cruiser Florida; Berrien who was to be in the C.S.S. 
Chickamauga; and Long, who was to be both in the Merri- 
mac in her fights in Hampton Roads and in the Albemarle 
when she fought a flotilla of gunboats in Albemarle Sound ; 
Handsome Wyndham Mayo, who after brilliant service in 
the Confederacy behaved with such conspicuous bravery 
and showed so much ability when a passenger steamer which 
he commanded after the war was burned in Chesapeake 
Bay. And then there were also Gardner and Goodwyn, who 
were promoted for gallantry to lieutenancies when they 
took part in a small boat expedition which boarded and car- 
ried the U.S. gunboats Resolute and Satellite in the Rappa- 
hanock River. Besides these there were many others who 
gallantly served in the gunboats and naval batteries of the 
Confederacy. The "Brood of the Constitution" surely con- 
tained a lot of good fighting material. 

Lieutenant Commanding George W. Rodgers was the 
captain of the Constitution. He was the idol of the midship- 



Other Heroes 27 

men. He was afterwards killed at an assault on Fort Sumter 
when in command of the U.S. monitor Katskill. He was a 
strict disciplinarian with very gentle manners ; all the same, 
the most refractory midshipman did not care to be haled 
before him on any charge whatsoever. On Saturday nights 
we frequently had dances — which we called "hops" — on 
board the frigate, and many of the belles of Annapolis, 
Baltimore, and Washington used to attend them just as 
they do in this day and generation. The berth deck would 
be decorated with flags and the Academy band furnished 
the music. 

Occasionally we had a little excitement on board of "Old 
Ironsides." One day "Fighting Bob" Evans, not known by 
that sobriquet in those days, gave us a thriller. Two boys, 
one big and the other small, had an altercation. Bob had 
nothing to do with it, but con amore proposed to the big 
boy that he would help the little one lick him. The little 
boy like a goose said that he did not want anybody to help 
him, that he would cut his antagonist with a knife if he was 
touched. An officer passing by heard the remark, and think- 
ing that it was Evans who made it, promptly put him under 
arrest and marched him to the captain's cabin, and preferred 
the charge against him. Under the midshipmen's code poor 
Bob could not squeal on his comrade. 

Captain Rodgers arose from his seat. His wrath was 
majestic — "And so, sir!" he said to Evans, "you propose 
to raise a mutiny on board of my ship. I will let you know, 
sir, that a midshipman has hung to a yardarm for mutiny 
before this, and you dare try to raise one and I will hang 
you ! " And turning to the officer said, " Confine him below." 
To one ignorant of the annals of the service this hanging 
business would have sounded like an empty threat, but it 
must be remembered that the hanging of Midshipman 
Spencer, son of the Secretary of War, on board of the brig 
Summers was at that time an affair of comparatively recent 
date, and worse than that the captain of the Summers, 



28 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Alexander Slidell McKensie, was a "Rodgers," and Bob 
did not know but what the hanging of midshipmen ran in 
the blood. 

The wardroom of the old frigate was away down below 
the water line and the after staterooms were as dark as 
Erebus. Bob was confined in the darkest of them. He stood 
it for about twenty minutes and then requested that he 
should be allowed to write a letter. Permission being 
granted, he was taken into the light, and pen, ink, and paper 
furnished him, and this, according to the story which fil- 
tered down to us midshipmen, was the letter he wrote to 
his uncle, a lawyer in Washington : — 

My dear Uncle : — 

I have committed mutiny and they are going to hang me. If 
you want to see me again come quickly to your affectionate 
nephew, 

RoBLEY D. Evans. 

Poor little Bob, he was only fourteen years of age and of 
very small stature for his years. 

The winter of 1 860-61 was a very cold one to me. I had 
once seen a snow flurry at home, but I had never before seen 
a large body of water like the Severn River frozen over. 
The Northern boys were delighted and at once begged per- 
mission to go skating. Seeing them gracefully skimming 
over the ice like so many swallows was fascinating to me, 
and I could not resist the desire to join them; so procuring 
a pair of skates, with many doubts I too went upon the ice. 
We had gone ashore and walked some distance up the river 
to a place the higher authorities thought safe, and the 
master-at-arms patroled the river-bank to afford assistance 
in case of need. I had proceeded only a short distance from 
the shore when suddenly both feet went skyward and the 
back of my head hit the hard ice and the force of my fall 
let me crash through it. The depth of the water was over my 
head and I was weighted with a heavy regulation overcoat, 



The Bilged 29 

but I could swim and dive almost as well as the average 
alligator of my native bayous. I came up under solid ice 
and then went down again and was fortunate enough to find 
the hole I had come through. I tried to climb up on the ice, 
but it would break as fast as I put my weight on it. Slowly 
but surely I thus broke my way toward the shore and soon 
found myself in water that barely reached up to my arm- 
pits. Seeing me standing on hard bottom the master-at- 
arms suddenly determined to do the great life-saving act 
and came crashing through the ice and seized me by the 
arm. I was escorted to the ship in disgrace and repri- 
manded by the officer in charge for having gone on the ice 
without informing any one that I did not know how to 
skate. The master-at-arms, who had seen my life-and-death 
struggle from the river-bank and who had done nothing to 
help me until I was safely standing on the bottom, and 
there was no further danger in coming to my assistance 
than getting the legs of his trousers damp, was showered 
with compliments and congratulated as a life-saver by the 
higher officers (who had not seen the incident), much to the 
amusement of the midshipmen who had been on the ice, 
many of whom had really risked their lives in their endeavors 
to get near me. 

In February the time for our first dreaded examination 
arrived and there was intense excitement in our little 
floating world. Some forty-odd of our class "bilged," which 
in midshipman parlance means that they were found defi- 
cient in their studies, the result of which was that they 
received polite letters from the Secretary of the Navy in- 
forming them that if they would send him their resignations 
he would be pleased to accept them at once. These accept- 
ances arrived promptly, and through some misunderstand- 
ing were handed to the unfortunate boys before arrange- 
ments for their departure had been completed, and of 
course there ensued a most extraordinary state of affairs. 
Here were some forty-odd young civilians suddenly freed 



30 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

from the yoke of naval discipline and detained on board a 
man-of-war where every movement was regulated by orders. 
Naturally it was not long before pandemonium broke loose. 
As long as the "bilged" saw the officers around, the train- 
ing they had received in the last few months kept them in 
order; but when night came and two bells (nine o'clock) 
were struck and the hammocks were slung, the usual rough 
play on the berth deck became almost a riot. 

To separate the goats from the sheep the "bilged" were 
directed to sling their hammocks as far forward as possible 
instead of on their customary hooks. When taps sounded 
and the gruff voice of the master-at-arms bellowed his 
usual warning of "Gentlemen! Silence, fore and aft!" the 
almost sacred order was received with derisive shouts of 
laughter from forward. The petty officer repeated the order, 
which we all well knew emanated from higher authority. 
There was an ominous silence as the master-at-arms retired 
up the hatchway. Then suddenly, by some ingenious de- 
vice of the " goats " at the order, "Let fall!" a whole row 
of hammocks occupied by "sheep" came down with a 
crash, emptying their contents, midshipmen, blankets, and 
mattresses, in indescribable confusion on to the deck. Man 
is so near akin to monkeys that, as Rochefoucauld said, 
"We even take a certain amount of pleasure in the very 
misfortunes of our friends"; and all the boys who had 
escaped the disaster burst Into roars of laughter which were 
quickly hushed by the arrival of a lieutenant on the scene. 
The hammocks were reslung and for a few minutes after 
the officer's disappearance from the scene there was silence 
again. We were just dozing off when the sound of a giggle 
coming from forward made us sit up and take notice. The 
order to keep silence was again given and received with 
laughter. This brought Lieutenant, now Admiral, John H. 
Upshur, the executive officer, on the scene. He ordered 
silence again and a "goat" answered him with a "tee-hee." 
The lieutenant walked a little way further forward, stoopH 



The Bilged 31 

ing as he went to avoid the hammocks overhead, and re- 
peated his command, which was received with a chorus of 
"ha-ha's." When the young demons had enticed him as 
far forward as they wanted him, they commenced to roll 
thirty-two-pound round shot down that inclined deck. The 
lieutenant manfully stood his ground for a moment, but 
the improvised ten-pin balls came faster than he could skip 
over them and he had to take refuge on the hatchway steps. 
"Beat to quarters!" he fairly roared, and to the accom- 
paniment of the "long roll" of the drums we jumped into 
our clothes and tumbled up on deck, where we took our 
stations at the guns ; but not for long, for we were marched 
down to the main deck and there made to toe a seam and 
stand at "attention." Such was the habit of discipline that 
the "goats," forgetting that they were free, accompanied 
us. 

The suave and elegant lieutenant in charge ordered a 
wardroom boy to bring him a table, a chair, a newspaper, 
and a hot cup of coffee, and made himself comfortable. 
After what seemed to me an interminable time the deadly 
silence was broken by the officer saying that if the gentle- 
men who had made the disturbance would step forward he 
would gladly let the rest of us "turn in." He just said that 
for form's sake, as no one knew better than he did that the 
traditions of the Naval Academy did not allow a midship- 
man to "squeal" under any circumstances — and the hours 
dragged along. At last, becoming desperate, some of the 
fighting men of the class asked permission to leave the 
ranks, which was granted, as the lieutenant had been a 
midshipman himself and knew what was coming as well as 
the boys did. These fellows went to the guilty parties and 
intimated to them that there would be some black eyes to 
carry home if they did not confess and let the rest of us have 
some rest. The hint acted like a charm, and one after an- 
other of the newly made civilians stepped forward. It was 
then so nearly time for reveille that it was hardly worth 



32 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

while for us to go to sleep again, but we had the satisfaction 
of seeing a very seedy-looking set of civilians go over the 
side the next morning as they bade farewell forever to a 
naval career. 

Occasionally we were taken ashore for infantry drill with 
the battalion composed of the "oldsters" who lived in the 
old Academy buildings. The Professor of Infantry Tactics 
was Major Lockwood, a gallant officer who afterwards be- 
came a brigadier-general in the Union Army. Major Lock- 
wood unfortunately stammered and once the battalion got 
facetious with him. He had instructed them that they must 
never make a motion to obey an order until they heard 
the last sound of the command. He was in front of the 
battalion holding the hilt of his sword in his right hand and 
the end of the blade in his left. He gave the order to march 
all right, and then he gave the order to charge while he was 
walking backward intending to halt them when they got 
near him, but a fit of stammering came over him and he 
could only say "Ha-Ha-Ha-!" and before he could finish 
the word the midshipmen had run over him and also over 
the sea-wall and into the water, guns, uniforms, and all. 
Of course for the moment there was a great deal of hilarity, 
but unfortunately those intelligent navy officers know an 
antidote for every prank a midshipman can conceive. 

By the end of i860 a dark cloud had settled^ over our 
spirits and we no longer spent our few moments of leisure 
in skylarking, but instead discussed the burning question 
of secession. We did not know anything about its merits, 
but conceived the idea that each State was to compose a 
separate nation. Harry Taylor, afterwards rear admiral, 
who was from the District of Columbia, said that he was 
going with New York because that State had more com- 
merce than any other one, and necessarily would have the 
biggest navy. He was promptly called down by being in- 
formed that no one would be allowed to join any State 
except the one he was born in, — and he was further humili- 



Secession 33 

ated by a much-traveled boy who asserted that he had been 
in Washington and that the District of Columbia had only 
one little steamboat out of which to make a navy and that 
one ran between Washington and Acquia Creek and that 
she was rotten. Personally, I was insulted by being informed 
that Louisiana had been purchased by the money of the 
other States just as a man buys a farm, and that therefore 
she had no right to secede. This was said in retort after I 
had made the boast that by rights many of the States be- 
longed to Louisiana. So the wrangle went on day after day 
until the news came that South Carolina had in reality se- 
ceded and the boys from that State promptly resigned and 
went home. Then followed the news of the firing on Fort 
Sumter. The rest of the lads from the South resigned as 
rapidly as they could get permission from home to do so 
— I among the rest. 

I passed over the side of the old Constitution and out of 
the United States Navy with a big lump in my throat which 
I vainly endeavored to swallow, for I had many very dear 
friends among the Northern boys — in fact, affectionate 
friendships, some interrupted by death, but a few others 
which have lasted for more than half a century. To my 
surprise my captain, George Rodgers, accompanied me 
ashore and to the railway station, telling me, as I walked 
beside him, that the trouble would end in a few weeks and 
that I had made a great mistake, but that even then it was 
not too late If I would ask to withdraw my resignation. 

As we passed through the old gate opening into the town, 
the gate which I was not to pass through again until my 
head was white, fifty years afterwards, and as we walked 
along the street, Captain Rodgers kindly took my hand in 
his, and then for the first time I realized that I was no 
longer in the navy, but only a common and very unhappy 
little boy. But the Confederacy was calling me and I 
marched firmly on. That call seemed much louder at 
Annapolis than it did after I reached my native land. 



CHAPTER IV 

Out of the United States Navy — Complete disguise — Captain Maynadier, 
U.S.A. — Passing through the Union and Confederate lines — Senator Wigfall 
and President Andrew Johnson — Montgomery, Alabama — President Jeffer- 
son Davis and Judah P. Benjamin — Tender services and sword to the Con- 
federacy — Declined with thanks — The "Marseillaise." 

At that time I was very small for my age (fifteen) — 
so small, in fact, that I was dubbed "Little" Morgan, which 
nickname has stuck to me to this day despite my five feet 
nine and a quarter inches in height and over two hundred 
pounds weight. With as much dignity as my size at the time 
would permit of my assuming, I took my seat in the car and 
started for Washington. Then I commenced to size up the 
situation. I had only twelve dollars, all the pay that was due 
me when I resigned, and there was a thousand miles for me 
to travel to reach my home ; but what worried me most was 
the fear that the authorities would arrest me if they knew 
that I proposed to offer my services to the Southern Con- 
federacy. I had no civilian **togs," but I had taken the 
gold anchors off my collar, on which they had left dark 
imprints, and put blue velvet covers, fastened by elas- 
tics, over the brass buttons of my jacket. There were only 
nine buttons on a side, so of course they were not conspic- 
uous. This, with the glazed cover of my cap to hide the 
silver anchor which adorned its front, constituted my dis- 
guise, which I felt sure would be sufficient to enable me to 
slip through the enemy's capital without recognition. I 
was just beginning to feel comfortable when a motherly- 
looking old lady in the opposite seat disturbed my equanim- 
ity by asking me in a loud voice if I was "one of those little 
Naval Academy boys who were going South? " That woman 
surely had the making of a Sherlock Holmes in her. 

I had not an idea as to what I would have to do to reach 
home after I arrived in Washington, so, to throw the minions 



Captain Maynadier, U.S.A. 35 

of Abraham Lincoln further off my trail I went straight 
to the house of Captain Henry Maynadier, U.S.A., an 
ardent Union man who had married one of my first cousins. 
I told him that I wanted to get home and had no money, 
and then, washing my hands of all responsibility, left the 
rest for him to do. He did it. He obtained a permit for 
himself and me to pass through the lines, and, hiring a hack, 
we started on our adventure. 

The Union pickets held the Long Bridge; half a mile 
below on the Alexandria Road were posted the Confederate 
sentries. Of course, with the permit we had no difficulty in 
crossing the bridge, but before we had proceeded very far 
on the road a man with a gun jumped out of the bushes and 
ordered us to halt. The fellow was an Irishman who had 
formerly done chores at Captain Maynadier's house in 
Washington, and of course he instantly recognized him, 
at the same time crying out gleefully, " Begorra! we'll whip 
those dirty nigger-loving Yanks now that you are coming 
with us!" 

The captain said a few pleasant words and told him that 
I was going South and asked him to see that I did not miss 
my way to Alexandria where I was to catch the train. He 
also told me to jump out quickly and ordered the driver to 
turn around. I had hardly reached the ground when the 
driver put whip to his horses and the astounded picket, 
recovering from his astonishment, raised his gun. I begged 
him not to shoot, assuring him that Captain Maynadier 
was coming South later. He did — with Sherman ! This 
adventure occurred in the latter part of April. In November 
of the same year Captain Maynadier and I were shooting 
at each other at Island Number 10 on the Mississippi 
River. 

Arriving at the railway station in Alexandria, I found a 
great crowd wildly cheering ex-Senator Wigfall, who was 
a volunteer aide on General Beauregard's staff, and who 
had received the sword of Major Anderson when Fort 



36 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Sumter surrendered. Wigfall stood on the rear platform of 
a car, bowing his appreciation of the enthusiasm. I found 
an unoccupied seat on the train and was making myself 
comfortable when a big, broad-shouldered, stumpy man 
waddled up to where I sat and said, "Sonny, as you are so 
small and I am so large, I think we will make a good fit for 
this narrow seat "; and without further ado he seated him- 
self beside me, first asking me to move so he could have the 
place by the window. 

The train started amid wild cheers for Wigfall, the hero 
of the hour, and at every station where we stopped crowds 
were gathered demanding a speech from the great man. 
The stout fellow with the short legs who was seated beside 
me apparently took no interest in the proceedings, and 
seemed engrossed by his own thoughts. It was sometime 
after dark when we arrived at Lynchburg, Virginia, where 
the largest crowd we had yet seen was waiting for the train. 
Many of the men bore torches, but they were not cheering 
for Wigfall ; they seemed to be In an ugly humor about some- 
thing. Suddenly there were cries of "Hang the traitor!" 
"Here is a rope!" "Bring him out!" as the maddened 
mob fairly swirled about the car. 

A man burst through the door and rushed up the aisle 
to where I was seated and, leaning over me, said to my 
neighbor: "Are you Andy Johnson?" 

"I am Mr. Johnson!" replied the stout gentleman. 

"Well," said the stranger, "I want to pull your nose!" 
and he made a grab for Mr. Johnson's face. 

The latter brushed the man's hand aside, at the same 
time jumping to his feet. 

There followed a scuffle for a few seconds, and poor little 
me, being between the combatants, got much the worst of 
it: I was most unpleasantly jostled. 

The crime for which they wanted to lynch Mr. Johnson 
was the fact that he was reported to be on his way to Ten- 
nessee for the purpose of preventing that State from seced- 



Senator Wigfall and Andrew Johnson 37 

ing. Mr. Wigfall came up to Mr. Johnson and asked him 
to go out on the platform with him. Wigfall at once ad- 
dressed the mob and urged them to give Mr. Johnson a 
hearing, which they did. The latter commenced his speech 
by saying, "I am a Union man!" and he talked to them 
until the train moved off, holding their attention as though 
they were spellbound. His last words were, " I am a Union 
man!" — and the last cry we heard from the crowd was, 
"Hang him!" 

Relating the foregoing incident to Mr. George A. Tren- 
holm, then Secretary of the Confederate Treasury, I ex- 
pressed the opinion that it was one of the greatest exhibi- 
tions of courage I had ever witnessed, but Mr. Trenholm 
cast a damper on my enthusiasm by saying, "My son, 
I have known Mr. Johnson since we were young men. He 
rode into prominence on the shoulders of just such a mob 
as you saw at Lynchburg, and no man knows how to handle 
such a crowd better than Mr. Johnson. Had he weakened 
they probably would have hung him." It was the same 
Andrew Johnson, afterwards President of the United 
States, who granted Mr. Trenholm amnesty and a pardon 
in 1866. 

Continuing my journey I at last arrived at Montgomery, 
Alabama, then capital of the Confederate States. My fears 
that the war would be over before I got there were somewhat 
allayed — for I had been told positively that it would not 
last six weeks before the South would finish It victoriously. 
I found the new capital in a ferment of excitement, nobody 
seemed to know exactly what it was about, but it was the 
fashion to be excited. From every house containing a piano 
the soul-stirring strains of the "Marseillaise" floated out 
of the open windows. At the hotel where I stopped cham- 
pagne flowed like water. The big parlor was crowded with 
men dressed in uniforms designed to please the wearer, so' 
they looked like a gathering for a fancy-dress ball. On the 
chairs and window sills were bottles of wine and glasses, 



38 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

while at the piano sat a burly German who, of course, 
crashed out the everlasting "Marseillaise" while his 
enthusiastic audience sang it. A more ridiculous sight 
than a lot of native-born Americans, not understanding 
a word of French, beating their breasts as they howled 
what they flattered themselves were the words of the song, 
it was never before my bad fortune to witness. But there 
was really good reason for all the excitement: had not 
twelve millions of people all gone crazy on the same day? 

I put my head out of a window so that I could get a little 
fresh air. There was a moment's halt in the music while 
some one made a war speech. The tired and sweating 
German musician took advantage of the respite to get a 
little air also, and as he stood beside me I heard him mut- 
ter: "Dom the Marseillaise!" 

The morning after my arrival I went to the capitol to 
oiTer my services, and the sword I intended to buy, to the 
Government. There were numbers of employees rushing 
about the building in a great state of excitement, but with 
nothing to do. None of them could tell me where I could 
find the Secretary of the Navy. At last I ran across an in- 
telligent official who informed me that " there warn't no 
such person." It appeared to be the custom of the attaches, 
when in doubt, to refer the stranger to Mr. Judah P. Ben- 
jamin, the "Pooh Bah" of the Confederate Government, 
then Secretary of State. He informed me that there was 
not as yet any Confederate Navy, and further humiliated 
me by calling me "Sonny." However, he was very kind and 
took me into the private office of President Jefferson Davis. 
Talk about "the blow that killed father" — it was nothing 
in comparison to the jolt I then and there received. Mr. 
Davis was kindness personified and told me to go home 
and tell my parents that as soon as the Government es- 
tablished a naval school I should have one of the first ap- 
pointments. I left the presence of the great man crestfallen 
and convinced that the Confederacy was doomed. I had 



The " Marseillaise " 39 

come to fight, not to go to school. Had I not just left the 
greatest naval school in the world to avoid getting an edu- 
cation? And here the best they could offer me was a place 
in some makeshift academy that was to be erected in the 
dim future. I felt that I had been deceived and badly 
treated, and I mentally comforted myself with the assur- 
ance that I knew more about drill and tactics than the whole 
mob of civilian generals and colonels who thronged the 
Capitol's corridors. But Mr. Davis did not know this. 

I was a full-blown pessimist by the time I reached my 
hotel where I was greeted by the sounds of the everlasting 
"Enfants de la patrie" being hiccupped as usual in the 
parlor ; and for the rest of the day I iterated and reiterated 
the German's prayer, "Dom the Marseillaise!" 

The only way to get from Montgomery to Mobile was by 
steamboat; and all the boats had been seized by the Gov- 
ernment for the transportation of troops. After much urging 
the captain of one of the transports, as a favor, allowed me 
to pay for my passage to Mobile on condition that I would 
sleep on the deck, if I could find a place, and supply my own 
provisions. The boat would start when he received orders, 
but he did not know when that would be. A two days* 
wait followed, during which I stayed on the boat so as to 
be sure that I would not be left and consequently lose the 
price of my passage. That was important, as my finances 
were running low. Confederate money had not yet made 
its appearance and gold was already being hoarded. I had 
already lost quite a sum in exchanging one State's money 
for another, as even the paper money issued in one county 
did not pass at par in the next (if accepted at all), but every- 
body was jubilant over the fact that the Confederate Con- 
gress had appropriated fifteen millions of dollars to carry the 
war on to a successful termination. 

Finally, after endless delay, a swarm of volunteers took 
possession of the boat and we were off. The transport carried 
no guns, but she was armed with an instrument of torture, 



40 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

called a "calliope," or steam piano, and as she backed out 
into the river it broke loose, shrieking an imitation of the 
*' Marseillaise," which, with few intermissions, was kept up 
during the two days and nights it took us to reach Mobile. 
When the calliope did stop, it was very soothing to hear 
the negro deck-hands break into song with their tuneful 
melodies. 

The volunteers were composed of fresh, youthful-looking 
men, and almost every one of them was accompanied by 
a "body-servant," as negro valets were called in the South. 
They were also accompanied by a great number of baskets 
of champagne and boxes of brandy. Few aristocrats in 
those days ever drank whiskey, which was supposed to be 
a vulgar tipple. They also had huge hampers containing 
roasted turkeys, chickens, hams, and all sorts of good things 
with which they were very generous. Every private also 
had from one to three trunks containing his necessary ward- 
robe. I saw some of these same young men in the muddy 
trenches in front of Richmond in 1865, when they were 
clothed, partially, in rags and were gnawing on ears of hard 
corn, and would have gladly exchanged half a dozen negroes 
or a couple of hundred acres of land for a square meal or a 
decent bed to sleep on. 



CHAPTER V 

Arrive in New Orleans — Brother Harry killed next morning in a duel — 
Home-coming in Baton Rouge. 

At Mobile I had to take another boat for New Orleans 
which, passing through the Mississippi Sound and Lake 
Ponchartrain, at last landed me in a country where I felt 
at home. I never realized before how sweetly the Creole 
accent sounded. I was met by my brother Harry, who had 
recently returned from Europe where he had been for the 
purpose of taking a post-graduate course in his medical 
studies. Harry was in high spirits because he had received 
an appointment as an assistant surgeon in the Confederate 
Army. He told me all the family news and how my brother 
Gibbes was a lieutenant in the Seventh Louisiana Regiment 
and had just left for Virginia, and that my brother George 
was a lieutenant in the First Louisiana and had gone to 
Pensacola, Florida. It appeared to me that the Confederacy 
wanted the whole family — with the exception of myself. 

Arriving at my brother Judge Morgan's house I was so 
glad to see the family that for the time being I forgot about 
the ingratitude the Southern Confederacy had shown me. 
That evening there was a dinner party at the house and 
among the guests were Mr. Bouligny, recently member of 
Congress, and probably the most famous duelist in the 
State; also Mr. Heriat, editor of "The Bee," the newspaper 
that never apologized. Mr. Heriat was its fighting editor. 
Judge Morgan was the only Union man at his table, and 
as the conversation naturally turned upon the war he was 
the target for all the shafts of wit and humor. One of the 
guests described a ludicrous sight he had witnessed that 
morning when a youth, well known to my brother, while 
doing sentry duty in front of a public park, had ordered 
the gigantic judge to halt as he was on his way to hold court, 



42 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and how the judge had brushed sentry and gun aside and 
almost frightened the poor boy out of his wits by saying, " I 
have a great mind to send you to jail for a month!" 

The judge related his experiences at a mass meeting held 
the night before at the Clay statue on Canal Street. He 
was one of the speakers and the crowd knew his senti- 
ments and had made their preparations. He told them that 
if they would fight the abolitionists within the Union he 
would fight with them, but warned them that if they fired 
a shot at the Stars and Stripes in less than five years their 
slaves would be their political masters. This opinion was 
indeed prophetic, but just then a straw man about fifteen 
feet long with a placard, on which was written in great 
letters, "P. H. Morgan — Traitor," pinned to it was set on 
fire and hoisted on a telegraph pole. 

When bedtime came, Harry, who had always made a pet 
of me, said that I must sleep with him, and the judge told 
him to go to bed and get some rest, as he wished to speak 
with me privately. When Harry had gone my elder brother 
told me I must be very careful and not disturb Harry in the 
night, as he had to get up very early; in fact he was going 
to fight a duel shortly after daylight. I instantly made up 
my mind that I was going to see that duel, and I never 
doubted for a moment but what my gallant brother would 
come off victor. 

I was awakened before day by a noise and Harry's jump- 
ing out of bed and hastily dressing. I too hurried on my 
clothes and followed him downstairs. There was a carriage 
waiting in front of the house in which were seated Messrs. 
Bouligny and Heriat. It was still very dark, and as Harry 
entered the carriage I climbed upon the box and took my 
seat alongside of the driver. We proceeded to the Oaks, a 
favorite place for duels, and when I was discovered Mr. 
Bouligny told me that under the "code" no blood relative 
was allowed to be within two hundred yards of the com- 
batants, so I was sent off to stand some distance away. 



Home-coming in Baton Rouge 43 

Mr. James Sparks was my brother's antagonist. One of 
his seconds was William Howell, a brother of Mrs. Jefferson 
Davis. The weapons — which my brother chose — were 
double-barrel shotguns loaded with ball, and the distance 
at which they fought was twenty paces. They were placed 
in position and Mr. Bouligny gave the word. Both guns, 
it seemed to me, went off simultaneously and Mr. Sparks 
staggered. All four seconds ran to him, and I fairly flew 
to see what had happened. My brother Harry during this 
time was standing and had not taken down his gun from 
his shoulder. Mr. Sparks's head had been grazed and when I 
had satisfied myself that he was not hurt I turned to look 
at my brother who to my horror was lying on his back with 
his gun across his breast. I said, "Mr. Bouligny, look at 
Harry!" The surgeon was already kneeling by him. The 
bullet had struck a bone in his right arm and glancing had 
entered his body passing through his lungs and penetrating 
to his left side. 

One of Mr. Sparks's younger brothers was a classmate 
of mine at the Naval Academy and served gallantly in the 
Confederate Navy afterwards. Mr. James Sparks, who 
killed my brother, served through the long four years, and 
after the war was over he was found dead near poor Harry's 
grave. 

The next day Judge Morgan and I took dear Harry's 
remains to Baton Rouge. The steamboat left New Orleans 
late in the afternoon, and all that night we sat by the cofhn 
which was placed on the lower deck. Each of us was wrapped 
in his own sad thoughts, so the long weary hours before we 
arrived at Baton Rouge seemed endless. Not that either of 
us was anxious to hasten our arrival, for we knew only too 
well that we had a sad ordeal to go through when we met 
our dear father, who would be bent with sorrow, and a 
mother whose heart would be broken. God help me — This 
was to be the home-coming to which I had looked forward 
with such delight. 



CHAPTER VI 

Volunteers — Lonely — Captain Booth, late U.S.A., finds use for me — 
Pensacola — "Give them a little more grape, Captain Bragg." 

I FOUND little change in the appearance of Baton Rouge 
except that the once peaceful streets of the pretty little 
town now resounded with the tramp of soldiers who were 
gathering at the garrison there from all parts of the State. 
Having nothing to do I frequented the garrison where were 
assembled many of my old schoolmates. The military ideas 
of these soldiers were very crude — very few, if any, of 
them knew the manual of arms and they insisted on calling 
their colonels and captains, "Billy," "Tommy," and "John." 
As for the uniforms (?) they would have put to shame an 
opera-bouffe army. I remember particularly the "Delta 
Rifles" of Baton Rouge whose dress was much admired by 
the ladies, but which greatly tickled my risibles. It was 
composed of some green gauze-like-looking fabric, the tunic 
of which, like the sleeves, was trimmed with long fringe 
which reached below their knees, and these men expected 
to go to Virginia and possibly spend a winter amidst its 
snows. 

The soldiers at that time elected their own officers, and 
many men of ability declined commissions, so that popular 
comrades who were not financially well fixed could enjoy 
the emoluments appertaining to the ranks of captains and 
lieutenants. But the Southern soldier was no fool, and it 
was not very long before he discovered that the "Billy" 
and "Tommy" captains were not the kind of men they 
wished to entrust their well-being and lives to. 

The volunteers were in great dread that the war would be 
over before they had a chance to get into it. All was bustle 
and excitement around me, and I alone seemed to have 



Captain Booth finds use for me 45 

nothing to do. My favorite pony was in the stable, but I 
had lost all pleasure in riding him — even Charloe no longer 
chased wild horses. Cousinard, the club-footed town con- 
stable, had killed my bull terrier while I was at Annapolis, 
so I had no sympathetic companion to keep me company. 
The boys I had formerly played with seemed to have dis- 
appeared as though by magic. A cavalry regiment appeared 
on the scene and among the privates I saw my old playmate 
and dear friend, Howell Carter, mounted on a fine big horse 
with a sabre as long as himself tied to him. Howell was only 
about a year older than I, but he was big for his age. The 
authorities seemed to draw the line only at little runts like 
myself. Every one was either going to the war or had gone. 
I seemed to be the only one for whom there was no place. 
I was very disconsolate, until one day Captain Booth, an 
old regular army officer who commanded the arsenal, asked 
my father to lend me to him, as he wanted me immediately 
for very important service. My father expressed surprise that 
one so young should be selected for any mission of impor- 
tance, but Captain Booth reminded him that I had had an 
Annapolis training and it was absolutely necessary for him 
to have some one who knew how to implicitly obey orders 
without asking any questions. My father consenting, I was 
told to put a change of clothes into a carpet-sack and go 
down to the wharf boat within an hour and there await 
further orders. Captain Booth soon joined me. An army 
wagon made its appearance on the river-bank and four sol- 
diers lifted from it a large and very heavy trunk which they 
brought aboard the wharf boat. Captain Booth then took 
me aside and told me what the trunk contained and handed 
me written instructions and an order addressed to all army 
officers and civilian officials to facilitate and expedite my 
journey in every possible manner. The order was signed by 
the hero of my childish imagination, General Bragg, of 
"Give them a little more grape. Captain Bragg," fame. 
Captain Booth and the soldiers remained with me till a 



46 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

steamboat bound for New Orleans arrived, when the sol- 
diers put the trunk on board, and Captain Booth, wishing 
me Godspeed, away I went feeling very important. 

Arriving at New Orleans, I had my trunk put upon a 
truck, and as my orders were not to part company with it 
under any circumstances, I sat on it and directed the driver 
to proceed to Judge Morgan's house on Camp Street. I had 
one of the many rough rides of my life over the cobble stones 
with which the streets of the city of that day were paved. 
A negro butler opened the door of the house for me and in- 
formed me that the family were away, but that my brother 
was in town and of course would sleep there. With the 
assistance of the butler, the two truckmen, and myself, 
we managed to carry the trunk into the hall on the lower 
floor, and I made an arrangement with the men to come for 
it at six o'clock in the morning to carry it to the station of 
the little railway, some five or six miles long, which con- 
nected the city with Lake Ponchartrain at the point where 
the boat for Mobile lay. Feeling safe I then went upstairs 
and went to bed. 

I awoke early in the morning just as the truckmen arrived 
in front of the house and one can imagine my horror and 
distress when I found that my precious trunk had disap- 
peared in the night. I was a ruined man, and felt certain 
that my career was blasted forevermore. 

The house was a big one with a wide hall running through 
its centre, and my brother's bedroom was on the lower floor 
and opened into the hall. I was standing there dazed when 
he suddenly made his appearance and commenced to scold 
me for my carelessness. To my amazement he told me that 
he knew perfectly well what the trunk contained, adding that 
he had a little more care for my reputation than I seemed to 
possess, and that he had performed the marvelous feat of 
dragging that trunk into his bedroom and had actually 
pushed it under his tall fourposter when he came home late 
in the night, as otherwise burglars might have carried it 



Captain Booth finds use for me 47 

away. Others possibly knew as well as he did what its con- 
tents were. I was astonished by his remarks, but as I had 
orders not to discuss the contents of the trunk with any one 
I kept silence. 

Greatly relieved in my mind I started for Mobile, and on 
arrival there showed General Bragg's order to the quarter- 
master officer, who had my trunk carried to another boat 
which took me to Blakely, across the bay, where I was to 
take the stage-coach for Pensacola. At Blakely my serious 
troubles began. The stage agent swore that under no cir- 
cumstances should so heavy a trunk be placed in the boot of 
the old-fashioned stage-coach. He would allow me to take 
passage on the crowded stage, but as for the trunk, "Nix!" 
There was a company of infantry stationed at Blakely, and 
I showed General Bragg's order to the captain; and on his 
threat to seize the stage and have one of his men take charge 
of it, I was allowed to proceed, for about ten miles, to a 
place where we changed mules. There the stage-driver said 
the trunk was fairly killing his team and he would not haul 
it another mile ; it could come on sometime in the dim future 
by wagon. My protests were in vain, as several of the pas- 
sengers volunteered to assist him in dumping it on the 
ground. Fairly desperate, I showed them the order of the 
commanding officer of the district and made them quite an 
oration, telling them that the contents of the trunk were of 
the greatest importance to General Bragg, who had been 
telegraphed that I would arrive on that stage, but that I 
would not accompany them without my baggage; and I 
wound up by asserting that if I was not on that stage when 
it arrived in Pensacola General Bragg would hang the last 
one of them for treason. 

My imposing-looking official document and the fear of a 
military court martial was too much for the nerves of the 
passengers, but did not faze the stage-driver. But when 
the passengers refused to continue the journey unless the 
trunk went also, he relented. He took his revenge, however, 



48 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

by making us walk most of the forty weary miles, because 
the road was so sandy. 

Arriving at Pensacola, the passengers were very glad that 
they had insisted on the driver bringing my trunk, for there 
waiting for me was Colonel, afterwards General, Boggs, 
chief of staff, and several other officers, and a detail of sol- 
diers with an army wagon, and they fairly overwhelmed me 
with compliments. The colonel said that General Bragg 
wanted to see me, and we went at once to Fort Barran- 
cus where his headquarters were. The general told me he 
never was so glad to see anybody before, and that I was to 
remain at his quarters as his guest until I returned to Baton 
Rouge. The next day the Confederate batteries opened 
fire on Fort Pickens. 

After the Civil War was over. Judge Morgan, who, as I 
have before said, was a Union man, was amusing his guests 
one day at dinner by recounting the many acts of folly 
of which he considered the defunct Confederacy guilty, 
and as an illustration pointed at me and said, "Do you 
see how young that boy looks now? Well, you can well 
imagine how he looked at the age of fifteen when I tell you 
that he was small for his age. The Southern troops stationed 
at Pensacola early in the war became dissatisfied at not 
receiving any pay. The newspapers were full of stories 
about their being mutinous on account of the Government's 
neglect, when the authorities, becoming frightened, to 
pacify the men secretly sent that child with a trunk full of 
silver dollars to be distributed among them, and the mere 
baby carelessly left it in the hall of my house where any 
one might have carried it off; but fortunately, for him, he 
had a big brother who almost pulled his arms out of their 
sockets to draw it to a place of safety under his own bed. 
And a worse frightened boy than he was when he could not 
find his trunk load of money you would rarely see." 

There was great laughter at my expense, and when it had 
somewhat subsided, I asked my brother if he knew what 



Pensacola 49 

he had slept over that night? " Silver, of course," he re- 
plied. "Well," I said, "that memorable night you slept 
over about three hundred pounds of powder contained in 
primers and fuses, and there were also in the trunk two 
live shells that Captain Booth wanted Colonel Boggs 
to try in a particular gun at Pensacola. They were 
good shells, too, for I saw both of them explode in Fort 
Pickens." 

"Great Heavens ! " exclaimed the judge ; "and I examined 
the fastenings with a lighted candle to see if they were 
secure before I went to bed!" 

When I arrived at Pensacola with the trunk, General 
Bragg had only three primers to a gun and that was the 
reason he and his staff were so glad to see me. 

When I returned to New Orleans I was informed that 
two steamers were being fitted out for the newly organized 
Confederate Navy and I crossed the river to see them 
where they lay at Algiers. I found several old friends who 
had been first classmen at Annapolis on board of them. One 
of these ships was a fruiterer called the Habana, and the 
other was a former Mexican pirate, called the Marquis de 
la Habana. The Habana became the famous Sumter and 
the other's name was changed to McRae. The latter vessel 
had already had quite an exciting career. A few months 
previously, in company with a consort, she had appeared 
off Vera Cruz. She refused to show her colors and the U.S. 
sloop-of-war Saratoga undertook to make her do so. She 
belonged to General Miramon, who was heading a Mexican 
revolution. She and her consort opened fire, but were soon 
reduced to submission by the American ship, but not before 
some twenty-odd men had been killed or wounded. A prize 
crew was put on board of her and Lieutenant R. T. Chap- 
man was ordered to take her to New Orleans and turn her 
over to the United States marshal and make the charge 
against her of " Belonging to an unrecognized revolutionary 
government and being a pirate on the high seas." Lieuten- 



50 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ant Chapman, a few months after he had made this charge, 
found himself on board of the Sumter, under Captain 
Semmes, which vessel belonged to an unrecognized revolu- 
tionary government and was branded as "a pirate on the 
high seas" by the United States Government. 



CHAPTER VII 

The sloop-of-war McRae arrives at Baton Rouge — Receives warrant as a 
midshipman and ordered to the McRae — Fail to get through the blockade — 
Attack on Federal fleet at the Head of the Passes — Heroes until a newspaper 
"Mahan" discovered that we ought to have towed the whole Federal fleet up 
to New Orleans in triumph. 

The summer dragged its slow length into July. My 
brothers Gibbes and George were by this time in Virginia, 
one in Blanchard's brigade and the other with General 
" Dick" Taylor's brigade, also in "Stonewall" Jackson's di- 
vision. Everybody, with the exception of the loud-mouthed 
orators, seemed to have gone to the war. The spellbinders 
now had only aged men and cripples for audiences, but 
they could always invoke a feeble cheer by dramatically 
exclaiming, "One Southern man can whip ten Northern- 
ers." This bold statement did not arouse any enthusiasm 
in my breast, as I doubted its correctness. I had already 
tackled two Yanks with rather worse than indifferent suc- 
cess. I had eight more coming to me for my share, and as 
I knew a lot of little fellows from New England, with whom 
I had skylarked at Annapolis, without showing myself 
possessed of any marked physical superiority over them in- 
dividually, I felt justified in my doubts about being able to 
manhandle the eight combined. 

At last there came a great excitement for the town, and 
the inhabitants, many of whom had never seen an ocean- 
going steamship, rushed to the riverside and there beheld 
the bark-rigged Confederate States sloop-of-war McRae, 
of seven guns, which "had come up the river to receive her 
ammunition from the arsenal. She was a beautiful sight 
as she lay at anchor in the stream with her tall, graceful 
masts and her yards squared in man-of-war fashion, looking 
so trim and neat. 

I went aboard as soon as possible to see the midshipmen, 



52 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

of course, and was most heartily welcomed. As soon as 
the captain and lieutenants learned that I had been at 
Annapolis, they too were very kind to me, agreeing with me 
that it was a shame I was not in the service. Before the week 
was ended I went on board again, and reported to Captain 
Thomas B. Huger for duty. How that delightful moment 
was brought about is best told by a letter from my father 
to my elder brother which was given to me by one of my 
nieces fifty years afterwards: — 

Baton Rouge, La., July 17, 1861. 
My dear Son: — 

The mail has arrived without bringing any letter from Virginia 
or from you. This has disappointed me much, as Charles La 
Noue tells me he saw in the "True Delta" of Sunday, a letter 
advertised for you coming from the First Regiment, Louisiana 
Volunteers. I presume it must have escaped your attention. 

It is now nearly a month since I have heard from George and I 
am becoming anxious. 

On yesterday Jimmie's warrant as midshipman arrived, at 
which he is highly delighted, especially as Captain Huger on yes- 
terday, before the arrival of the mail, requested me to telegraph 
the Department that there was room for him on the McRae and 
that he desired to have him. The little scamp seems to take the 
fancy of all the officers he falls in with; those on the McRae seem 
to be very clever, and the midshipmen are all acquaintances of 
his. . . . Ever yours, 

Thomas Gibbes Morgan. 

Hon. p. H. Morgan, 
New Orleans, La. 

When that telegram arrived ordering me to report to 
Captain Huger for duty on the McRae, my joy knew no 
bounds, and rushing to my room it took me about ten 
seconds to remove those velvet covers from the brass but- 
tons on my jacket, and in less than three minutes more I 
was in that uniform and had torn off the glazed cover of my 
cap and displayed my silver anchor. In those days all the 
naval officers wore the blue uniforms of the United States 
Navy which they had brought South with them, and they 




MIDSHIPMAN JAMES MORRIS MORGAN, C.S.N. 

At the age of lifteen 



Fail to get through the Blockade 53 

kicked like steers when they were afterwards compelled to 
don the gray, contemptuously demanding to know, "Who 
had ever seen a gray sailor, no matter what nationality he 
served?" 

I was in mortal dread that the McRae would sail before 
I could get to her (she in fact only lay there for ten days 
longer), but it took me only about ten minutes to get to 
the river where I commenced frantically to signal for a 
boat. I must have been kept waiting for fifteen minutes; 
to me it seemed an eternity. 

Reporting, I was assigned to my watch and station, and 
in less than an hour was sent ashore, on duty, in charge of 
the first cutter, and how my small heart swelled with pride 
and how my fellow townsmen's eyes opened with amazement 
as they heard "little Jimmie Morgan" giving orders to the 
sailors and their ever ready, "Aye, aye, sir!" in reply. 

Having got our ammunition on board, at last we started 
for New Orleans to fill up with coal, and then steamed for 
the mouths of the river, or rather to the "Head of the 
Passes," to await an opportunity to run the blockade. 
Captain Semmes with the Sumter had succeeded in doing 
it — why should not we ? But it was not to be. The 
passes were much better guarded than when the Sumter 
escaped. Several times we got ready to attempt the feat 
at night, but on each occasion the pilots raised objections, 
saying that the McRae drew too much water for them to 
take the responsibility, or that they were not pilots for the 
bar of the pass selected. Strange to say, most, if not all, the 
pilots, were Northern men. So we spent weeks laying at 
the Head of the Passes, or between there and Forts Jack- 
son and St. Philip, waiting our chance until our coal supply 
was exhausted and then we returned to New Orleans to 
refill our bunkers. 

The " Crescent City " was gay In those days, as the people 
had not yet realized what a serious thing war was, or what 
it was to live in a captured city, an experience that was 



54 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

to be theirs before many months had passed. There were 
balls and dinners ashore, and the ship was constantly filled 
with visitors. 

In the olden times little midshipmen were punished by 
being "mastheaded," which consisted in the youngster hav- 
ing to climb up to the cap of the foretopmast and stand 
there with barely space enough for his two little feet, and 
he had to hold on to the stays to keep from falling. Un- 
fortunately I was frequently detected in some deviltry, and 
as a consequence, passed much of my leisure time aloft. I 
am doubtful if I ever quite forgave our gallant second lieu- 
tenant, Mr. Eggleston, for saying to me on one occasion, 
after I had presented the first lieutenant's compliments and 
requested him to masthead me, "Well, sir, you surely ought 
to know the way up there by this time!" — I always sus- 
pected that he meant to be sarcastic. 

Captain Huger was a very handsome man; he was also 
a widower, his late wife having been a sister of General 
Meade, U.S.A., of Gettysburg fame. The captain was at 
the time of which I write engaged to one of the most beauti- 
ful girls in New Orleans, so it was not strange that when 
lying off the city he always found it convenient to anchor 
the McRae in front of Jackson Square because the Pont- 
alba buildings faced the park, and in one of them, near the 
old Cathedral of St. Louis, his sweetheart dwelt. I knew 
all about the courtship because I carried so many notes 
from the captain, and the young lady made such a pet of 
me. 

When the month of October arrived, it brought with it 
some excitement. Three towboats and a river tug each 
armed with a smooth-bore thirty-two pounder had been 
added to the Confederate fleet on the Mississippi. There 
was also a tugboat, called the Enoch Train, belonging to 
private parties, who had covered her over with a wooden 
turtleback over which they had placed railway iron "T" 
rails, dovetailed, for an armor. The patriotic owners wanted 



Attack on Federal Fleet 55 

to make a contract with the Confederate Government (for 
a huge sum) for every Federal vessel they would sink. 

The United States fleet, consisting of the steam sloop- 
of-war Richmond of twenty-six nine-inch guns, the Preble 
and Vincennes, sailing sloops-of-wai" of twenty-two guns 
each, and the Waterwitch, a steamer carrying five guns one 
of which was a rifle, had taken possession of the Head of 
the Passes of the Mississippi and put an end to any pos- 
sible blockade-running. 

Commodore Hollins had now assumed command of the 
naval defenses of the Mississippi River. He was no longer 
young, having been a midshipman on the U.S. frigate 
President when she was captured by a British fleet in the 
War of 1812. He was also the man who had (in the U.S. 
sloop-of-war Cyane) bombarded Greytown in Nicaragua. 
He now determined to attempt to drive the United States 
fleet out of the river: and to do this he decided to seize the 
ram, now called the Manassas, which was anchored in the 
stream. To a polite request that she should be turned 
over to us came the reply that we "did not have men enough 
to take her." The McRae was ranged up alongside of her 
and a boat was lowered. Lieutenant Warley ordered me to 
accompany him. On arriving alongside of the ram we found 
her crew lined up on the turtleback, swearing that they 
would kill the first man who attempted to board her. There 
was a ladder reaching to the water from the top of her 
armor to the water line. Lieutenant Warley, pistol in hand, 
ordered me to keep the men in the boat until he gave the 
order for them to join him. Running up the ladder, his face 
set in grim determination, he caused a sudden panic among 
the heroic (?) crew of longshoremen who incontinently 
took to their heels and like so many prairie dogs disap- 
peared down their hole of a hatchway with Mr. Warley 
after them. He drove them back on deck and then drove 
them ashore, some of them jumping overboard and swim- 
ming for it. With the addition of two fire rafts our fleet was 



56 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

now complete and we proceeded to the forts, where we 
anchored awaiting an opportunity to attack the enemy. 
This chance arrived on the night of the 12th of October, 
when we weighed anchor and proceeded down the river, 
the Manassas, under the command of Warley, leading, 
followed by the fire rafts in tow of tugs, the McRae, the 
Ivy, the Tuscarora, the Calhoun, and the Jackson. The 
Calhoun, a towboat, with a walking-beam engine, was 
considered too vulnerable in her boilers and machinery, so 
she was ordered to keep out of it. The Jackson, a high-pres- 
sure paddlewheel towboat of great power, made so much 
nois'e from her escape pipes that she could be heard ten 
miles away, so she was ordered to stay as far behind as pos- 
sible. It must have been about three o'clock in the morning 
when we saw a rocket go up which was the signal agreed 
upon that the Manassas had rammed something. In- 
stantly the heavy broadsides of the United States ships 
blazed forth as they shot holes through the darkness, or, as 
we hoped, through one another. Our fire rafts also burst 
into flame and were floating down upon them. It was a 
magnificent spectacle to those of us who were a mile 
away. 

When daylight came, all firing ceased, and to our amaze- 
ment we saw the Federal fleet fleeing down the Southwest 
Pass, and the Manassas (which we had never expected to 
see again), lying a helpless wreck in the marsh, against 
which she had drifted. She had rammed the Richmond and 
torn off of that vessel's bow a couple of planks, but as the 
Richmond had a coaling schooner alongside, the speed of 
the ram had been checked by the hawser of the collier which 
was made fast to the bow of the warship. The cable had 
slipped over the bow of the Manassas and mowed off her 
little smokestacks even with the turtleback, rendering her 
helpless. The Richmond had frantically worked her broad- 
side, but the ram lay so low in the water that all the pro- 
jectiles passed over her. This was fortunate, as the dense 




U.S. SLOOP-OF-WAR RICHMOND, OF FARRAGUT'S FLEET 




C.S. RAM MANASSAS, WHICH RAMMED THE RICHMOND 



Attack on Federal Fleet 57 

smoke which filled the Manassas had forced her crew to take 
refuge on her deck. The little ram was too light for the work, 
and too weak in power. She had been a good tug, but the 
weight of her armor had completely deadened her speed, 
and while she did very well going downstream she could 
not make more than one or two knots an hour against the 
current. 

" It is a poor cock that won't chase a fleeing rooster." Em- 
boldened by the sight of the retreating enemy we gave chase. 
On arriving at the mouth of the river the Preble and Water- 
witch passed over the shallow bar safely, but the big Rich- 
mond and the Vincennes grounded, the latter with her stern 
pointing upstream. The Richmond when she struck the 
bottom was swung around by the current and presented her 
formidable broadside to us. Outside, in the Gulf, about 
three miles away, was the fifty-gun sailing frigate Santee ' 
under a cloud of canvas, sailing back and forth like a caged 
lion, unable to get into the fray on account of her great 
draft, but she made as glorious a picture as ever delighted 
the eye of a sailor. 

We opened fire with our nine-inch pivot gun on the Rich- 
mond, but from a very respectful distance, as otherwise we 
might have spoiled her pretty paint. She replied at first 
with single guns, and afterwards with broadsides, many of 
the projectiles passing over us. The Waterwitch from out- 
side used a rifled gun, but her shots also, fortunately for us, 
went high. 

The towboat Ivy, commanded by Lieutenant Fry (the 
man who was some years later captured In the blockade- 
runner Virginius and so cruelly put to death by the Span- 
iards at Santiago, Cuba), made a dash for the helpless 
Vincennes, and, taking up a position under her stern, com- 
menced to throw thirty-two-pound shells, from her one little 
smooth-bore gun, into the sloop-of-war's cabin windows. 
Suddenly, to our amazement, we witnessed a sight the like 
of which was never before seen in the United States Navy. 



58 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

The boats of the Vincennes were lowered and her crew, 
after putting a fuse to her magazine, abandoned her, and 
took refuge on the Richmond ! 

The shots from the Richmond, in her efforts to protect 
the Vincennes's boats, almost drowned the little Ivy with 
spray and she was recalled. 

A most extraordinary thing had occurred on the aban- 
doned ship. Her cartridges were in red flannel bags, as was 
the custom at that time, and they were packed in metal 
cylinders about the size of barrels. One of these had been 
emptied and the fuse end was placed at its bottom and the 
powder cartridges replaced. The fuse led out of the maga- 
zine and up the hatchway on to the upper deck for some dis- 
tance. It burned its way along the deck and down into the 
magazine, up the side of the cylinder, and down through the 
spaces between the cartridges to the bottom without ex- 
ploding a cartridge! 

Commodore Hollins, knowing that the Richmond, alone, 
could whip the Gulf of Mexico full of such vessels as he 
commanded, if she could only get at them, withdrew from 
action and proceeded up the river, taking possession of three 
schooners on the way which the Federal fleet had left be- 
hind them in their hurry to get away. 

Arriving at the forts we anchored and I was sent up to 
New Orleans as a bearer of dispatches. The news of the 
fight had preceded me, and we found a great crowd on the 
levee when the steamboat made her landing. For the only 
time in my life I experienced the delights of having myself 
made into a hero. When it became known to the crowd that 
I had been in the fight, they cheered and seemed wild with 
excitement, but unfortunately for our glory the enthusiasm 
wore off when a "newspaper admiral " came out in an editor- 
ial denouncing Commodore Hollins, stating that his conduct 
was most reprehensible in that he had not brought to the 
city, as prizes, the whole Federal fleet. I suppose the frigate 
Santee, which drew so much water it would have required a 



Attack on Federal Fleet 59 

rather large truck to have carried her over the bar, ought 
to have been brought also! 

I had the permission of my captain to visit my home in 
Baton Rouge after mailing the commodore's dispatches, 
and when I arrived there I found my father dying. I went 
into his room and he made a sign that he wanted to speak 
to me. Bending over him I placed my ear close to his mouth 
and he whispered, "Good-night; God bless you, my son." 
Those were his last words. 



CHAPTER VIII 

The McRae made flagship of the Mississippi flotilla — Commodore Hollins 
— Appointed aide-de-camp to the commodore — Island No. lo — New Ma- 
drid — The Swamp Fox of Missouri — Masked batteries — Wanted to chal- 
lenge a major — U.S. ironclads pass Island No. lo — Stung — New Madrid 
and Island No. lo evacuated — "Savez" Read administers a lesson in disci- 
pline to the volunteers — Gunboats pretty badly cut up by shore batteries — 
Go back to New Orleans — Fort Jackson under heavy bombardment from 
Porter's mortar fleet — Commodore Hollins relieved from his command — 
Farragut passes the forts — Death of Captain Huger and sinking of the 
McRae. 

Here is a coronach for Confederate soldiers evidently 
written by an "unreconstructed rebel." It appears on a 
headstone in the Methodist Cemetery, St. Louis: — 

Here lize a stranger braiv, 
Who died while fightin' the Suthern Confederacy to save 

Piece to his dust. 

Braive Suthern friend 

From iland lo 

You reached a Glory us end. 
We plase these flowrs above the stranger's hed, 
In honer of the shiverlus ded. 

Sweet spirit rest in Heven 

Ther'l be know Yankis there. 

When I returned to the McRae, I found great changes 
had occurred during my two weeks' absence. All idea of 
running the blockade and going to sea as a cruiser had been 
abandoned, and judging from my later experience in a 
"commerce destroyer" it was well that the intention had 
been abandoned, for with her limited coal capacity, and her 
want of speed owing to the small power and uncertain 
humor of her gear engines, it is doubtful if she would have 
lasted a month in that business. 

I now found her much changed in outward appearance. 
The tall and graceful spars, with the exception of the lower 
masts, had disappeared. With the exception of Captain 



Island Number io 6i 

Huger, Sailing Master Read ("Savez"), and Midshipman 
Blanc, all of the line officers, whom I loved so dearly, were 
detached. Lieutenant Warley was to command perma- 
nently the Manassas; Lieutenant Eggleston and Midship- 
man Marmaduke were to join the Merrimac at Norfolk; 
Lieutenant Dunnington was to command the gunboat 
Ponchartrain ; Midshipman Sardine Graham Stone was to 
go to the cruiser Florida; and Midshipman Comstock was 
to go to the gunboat Selma, on board of which he was cut 
in two by a shell at the battle of Mobile Bay ; and I was ap- 
pointed aide-de-camp to Commodore Hollins, whose flag- 
ship the McRae was to be. 

Three river steamboats had been converted into men-of- 
war by having their luxurious cabins removed and their 
boilers protected by iron rails. They each carried four guns 
— three forward and one aft — and there had also been 
built (from designs by a locomotive roundhouse architect, 
I suppose) the most wonderful contraption that ever was 
seen afloat, called the Livingston. She carried six guns, 
three forward and three abaft the paddleboxes, and she was 
almost circular in shape. She was so slow that her crew 
facetiously complained that when she was going down- 
stream at full speed they could not sleep on account of the 
noise made by the drift logs catching up with her and 
bumping against her stern. These boats, with the Ivy and 
the tug Tuscarora, constituted our fleet. 

Information reached us that a number of real ironclads 
which the Federal Government was building at St. Louis 
and on the Ohio River were completed and were about to 
come down the river. 

The Confederates hastily fortified Island Number lo, a 
few miles above New Madrid, Missouri, and at the latter 
place had built two forts (Bankhead and Thompson). Our 
fleet was ordered to make all haste up the river to assist 
them in preventing the Federal fleet from coming down. 

On the way up the river our first disaster happened, when 



62 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

on a dark and foggy night we rammed the plantation of 
Mr. Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy. For this 
heroic performance, it is needless to say, none of us were 
promoted, and we lay ingloriously stuck in the mud until 
we were pulled off by a towboat. Disaster number two 
came when we were passing Helena, Arkansas, — the 
Tuscarora caught fire and was destroyed. 

Day after day, with our insufficient power and great 
draft, we struggled against the mighty current of the Missis- 
sippi, occasionally bumping into a mud bank and lying 
helpless there until we were pulled off. At the cities of Vicks- 
burg and Memphis we received ovations. The dear people 
were very enthusiastic, and knowing nothing about naval 
warfare, they felt sure we could whip the combined fleets 
of the universe. 

When we finally arrived at Island Number lo, we found 
a lively bombardment going on. It was, however, decided 
that we should drop down to New Madrid to assist in the 
defense of that city. 

The winter of 1861-62 was a very cold and bleak one in 
that part of the country, and for several weeks the monot- 
ony of our lives was broken only by the sound of the distant 
booming of the guns at Island Number 10. 

The McRae had been laid alongside the river-bank at the 
head of the main street of the town and the muzzles of her 
guns were just above the levee, thus giving us the whole 
State of Missouri for a breastwork. 

Everything seemed to be very peaceful until one day a 
solitary horseman made his appearance galloping at full 
speed. He stopped when he arrived opposite the McRae, 
and shouted from the shore that he wanted to see Commo- 
dore Hollins. The commodore, who was standing on the 
deck, asked him what he wanted, and the excited cavalier 
shouted back: "I am General Jeff Thompson, the swamp 
fox of Missouri. There are a hundred thousand Yankees 
after me and they have captured one of my guns, and if you 



Masked Batteries 63 

don't get out of this pretty quick they will be on board of 
your old steamboat in less than fifteen minutes ! " Just then 
another man, apparently riding in a sulky, between the 
shafts of which was hitched a moth-eaten mule, appeared 
on the scene. On closer inspection it was discovered that 
he was sitting astride of a small brass cannon which was 
mounted on a pair of buggy wheels. This piece of ordnance 
was scarcely three feet long. The general gazed on it admir- 
ingly, and for our information said : "That is a one-pounder 
— I invented it myself. The Yanks have got its mate, and 
if you don't get out of this they will hammer you to pieces 
with it." By this time there was great commotion in the 
two forts — seeing which General Jeff Thompson, nodding 
his head at the commodore, said, "So long!" and galloped 
away. That was the last we saw of him in that campaign. 

As the gallant "swamp fox" disappeared in the distance, 
the gun's crew of his one-gun battery resignedly observed, 
"I can't keep up with Jeff"; and brought down his thong 
on the mule's bony back, and the poor beast leisurely walked 
away. 

Above New Madrid a bayou emptied itself into the river. 
It meandered through a swamp for miles into the interior 
and was supposed to be impassable by troops, but General 
Pope and his thirty thousand men had accomplished the 
feat and taken New Madrid in the rear. His army was 
marching boldly up to our lines, and had they kept on they 
would have taken the place at once; but when the McRae's 
big nine-inch Dahlgren gun opened on them at long range, 
they stopped and proceeded to lay siege to it. It was evi- 
dently intended that they would take the place by regular 
approaches and the dirt commenced to fly while the artil- 
lery kept up a desultory fire. 

The Confederate forts were situated at each end of the 
town and the flotilla of gunboats lay between them. Un- 
fortunately the McRae's battery was the only one mounted 
at a sufficient height above the river-bank to fire over it 



64 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

while at the same time using it for a breastwork; the other 
boats had to lie out in the stream where they were very 
much exposed to the enemy's fire. 

Some three thousand raw recruits formed the garrisons 
and manned the trenches which connected the forts. The 
forts had been built with regard to commanding the river 
and were very weak on the land side. 

Day by day the Union troops drew nearer and the firing 
increased in fury. Commodore Hollins sent me frequently 
with communications to General Bankhead, who com- 
manded our land forces. One day, when the firing was 
particularly furious, I was sent with one of these missives 
and found General Bankhead on the firing line. Shells were 
bursting frequently in unpleasant proximity to where he 
was standing with his field-glasses pressed to his eyes. Just 
behind him stood several officers. I saluted the General 
and handed him the envelope. He told me to wait until he 
could send back an answer. As I joined the group of officers 
I distinctly heard a major say, "What a damned shame to 
send a child into a place like this!" The other officers must 
have noticed that my dignity was offended, for they spoke 
very kindly, but I could not get over the insult — it stuck 
in my gorge. I was so mad I could hardly speak. Returning 
to the ship I at once consulted my friend, the first lieuten- 
ant, who was now Mr. Read ("Savez"), on the propriety 
of sending the major a challenge, but "Savez" soothed my 
wounded feelings by telling me that "the commodore would 
not approve of such action and anyhow I need not mind 
what the major said, as he was nothing but a damned sol- 
dier, and a volunteer at that, and of course did not know 
any better." 

The enemy got to the river-bank below us and a new 
danger menaced us. They prevented our transports from 
coming up the stream. The levees were breastworks ready- 
made, and day after day our gunboats had to go down to 
clear them out. We would be drifting down the apparently 



Island Number io 65 

peaceful river, when suddenly a row of tall cottonwood sap- 
lings would make us a graceful bow and fall into the stream 
as a dozen or more field pieces poured a galling broadside 
into us. Of course, with our heavy guns we would soon 
chase them away, but only to have them reappear a mile 
above or below in a little while, and then the same thing 
had to be gone through again. Later they brought up some 
heavy guns and then we had some really good tussles with 
them. 

Our troops were forced back until they were under cover 
of the forts, leaving the space between, which was the aban- 
doned town, to be protected by the guns of the McRae. I 
was standing by the commodore on the poop deck watch- 
ing the firing when we saw a light battery enter the other 
end of the main street. Our nine-inch gun was trained on 
them, and when it was fired the shell struck the head of the 
column and burst in about the middle of the company. 
To see horses, men, and guns cavorting in the air was a 
most appallmg sight. Flushed with success the ofificer in 
charge of the gun reloaded and tried another shot, when 
the gun exploded, the muzzle falling between the ship's 
side and the river-bank, while one half of the great breech 
fell on the deck beside its carriage. The other half went 
away up into the air and coming down struck the rail be- 
tween the commodore and myself and cut the side of the 
ship, fortunately glancing out instead of inside. The com- 
modore coolly remarked, "Youngster, you came near 
getting your toes mashed!" 

We had a rough little steam launch, about twenty-five 
feet in length, which acted as a tender to the McRae, and 
as our gunboats were makeshift ones, they were not pro- 
vided either with signals or any place to fly them from. I 
used this launch to convey to them the flag officer's orders. 
The commodore suspected that the enemy were fortifying 
the point above us which, if done, would have cut us off 
from communication with Island Number 10 which was 



66 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

making a heroic defense and preventing the Union iron- 
clads from coming down and annihilating our little mosquito 
fleet. So he sent me on a reconnaissance, cautioning me to 
be careful and not approach too close to the point until I 
was satisfied there was no battery there. 

The launch had no deck and consequently her little 
boiler and engine were all exposed to the weather. Her 
crew consisted of a fireman from the McRae and a sailor 
to steer her. I proceeded to the point keeping well out in the 
stream, but saw nothing suspicious. Being of a curious 
turn of mind I wanted to see what was around the river 
bend, so kept on. As we turned the point my helmsman ex- 
claimed, "The Tom Benton!" The Tom Benton was the 
largest Union ironclad on the river and all ironclads were 
"Tom Bentons" to us. Sure enough, across the next bend 
we saw a column of black smoke, evidently issuing from 
the funnel of a steamer and we turned tail and ran for the 
McRae with all speed possible. As we passed the point, 
which I had previously satisfied myself was absolutely 
harmless, the small cottonwood trees fell into the river and 
a battery opened on us, one of the shells exploding as it 
struck the water, drenching us. But our noble craft kept 
on her way, the engineer by this time having tied down the 
safety-valve. Arriving within hailing distance of the flag- 
ship, I sang out "Tom Benton coming down, sir!" Com- 
modore Hollins being on deck shouted back, "Come 
aboard, sir"! — My chief engineer gasped out, "For God's 
sake, don't stop, sir; she will blow up!" We ran around 
the McRae while the officer of the deck, and it seemed to 
me everybody else, was shouting, "Come aboard!" The 
safety-valve by this time had been unlashed and she was 
blowing off steam, while the whirling engine was also using 
up as much of the surplus as possible as around and around 
we went, while the commodore was stamping on the deck 
and fairly frothing at the mouth. At last — it seemed to 
me an age — the engineer pronounced it safe to stop, and 



New Madrid 67 

we went alongside the flagship. As I stepped on to the quar- 
ter deck. Commodore HoUins demanded to know why I 
had disobeyed his instructions and gone around the point. 
Hesitatingly I answered, "I thought, sir — " But I got 
no farther, as the commodore interrupted me with " You 
thought, sir! You dared to think, sir! I will have you un- 
derstand I am the only man in this fleet who is allowed to 
think!" I was so badly scared that probably that awful 
interview with the commodore was the reason I was never 
afterwards so thoughtless. 

The Federal ironclad, not knowing our weakness, after 
she had run by the Island Number 10 batteries in the night, 
was quietly waiting at her anchors for her consorts to do 
likewise before attacking us. 

The houses of New Madrid interfered with our fire. 
They were just as their owners had left them when they fled 
in such haste that they had not time to move their furni- 
ture or belongings, and it had up to this time seemed a 
pity to destroy them, but now they had been riddled by 
shells and were very much in the way. The commodore 
sent for me one night and ordered me to take a detail of 
men and go ashore and set fire to the town. I begged him 
not to send me and told him the history of the place, and 
how in 1787 the King of Spain had given my great-grand- 
father. Colonel George Morgan, formerly of the Revolu- 
tionary Army, a grant of land comprising, according to 
Gayarre, in his history of Louisiana, some seventeen 
millions of acres, and how my ancestor had founded the 
city of New Madrid on it, and that it would be dreadful 
for me to have to destroy it. The old commodore simply 
remarked that it would be a singular coincidence and that 
it was all the more appropriate that I should destroy my 
ancestor's town. 

I went ashore with a number of men all provided with 
matches and fat-pine torches. The wind was blowing 
toward the river and we sneaked along in the darkness until 



68 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

we arrived at the last houses in the suburbs. I then remem- 
bered that in my frequent visits to the army headquarters 
I had noticed a barn that was filled with straw situated 
some two hundred yards beyond the last house in an open 
field. I knew that the enemy's pickets were very near and 
did not like to send one of my men to set it on fire, so I gave 
them instructions to wait until I myself touched it off or the 
pickets commenced to shoot and then to set fire to every- 
thing within reach as rapidly as possible. I knew little of 
the effects of lights and shadows. I made my way out to the 
barn all right and found the straw bulging out of a window 
well within my reach. I struck a match and applied it to 
the straw with the result that a mass of flame instantly 
leaped many feet above the roof, and the minie bullets 
commenced to sing like so many big mosquitoes around my 
ears. I fled toward my comrades. I don't think I ever ran 
so fast in my life as I did on that occasion. I was fairly 
flying when I felt a sting in the upper part of my left arm, 
and I also distinctly remembered that I exclaimed, "Thank 
God, it is not in one of my legs!" The only effect of the 
shot was to increase my speed, if that was possible: the 
bullet had only grazed my arm. A line of houses were in 
flames by the time I rejoined my men. The wind fanned the 
flames and the light exposed us to the fire of the enemy, 
but we succeeded in reaching the ship without the loss of 
a man. I had undone the work of my ancestor, and I was 
not particularly proud of the job. 

A few days after this adventure things at New Madrid 
came to a head. We were cut off from Island Number lo 
by the ironclad, and the batteries below cut us off from com- 
munication with the lower river. We commanded only the 
little stretch along which our gunboats lay. Our soldiers 
were completely demoralized and it was decided to evacu- 
ate New Madrid. At midnight the gunboats were brought 
alongside the bank, gangplanks were put out, and we had 
not long to wait before the terrified troops, every man for 



A Lesson in Discipline 69 

himself, rushed aboard the smaller gunboats in the greatest 
disorder. They at once rushed to the side farthest from the 
enemy, and in doing so almost capsized the topheavy and 
cranky little Ivy. 

But it was a different thing with the McRae, where they 
found a sentry at the gangway who ordered them to halt. 
They raged and swore and openly threatened to rush the 
sentry, but at that moment the gentle "Savez" Read ap- 
peared on the scene and told the men that if they came on 
board it would have to be in an orderly manner as soldiers, 
and not as a mob. At this the men commenced to threaten 
him, but he only asked them where their officers were, and 
was told that they did not care a rap where they were, but 
that they were coming aboard. By this time Read had gone 
ashore and was standing amongst them. He quietly asked 
them to be silent for a moment, and then inquired who 
was their head man. A big fellow, with much profanity 
said he "had as much to say as any other man." Instantly 
Read's sabre flashed out of its scabbard and came down on 
the head of the mutineer, felling him to the ground, as in a 
thunderous voice the usually mild "Savez" roared, "Fall 
in!" — and the mob ranged themselves in line like so many 
lambs and were marched quietly across the gangplank and 
on to the ship. 

We carried the frightened creatures across the river to 
the Tennessee side and put them ashore at Point Pleasant, 
some two or three miles below New Madrid, and near Tip- 
tonville. That was the last we saw of them. 

The garrison of Island Number 10 also escaped, but some 
five hundred of them were afterwards captured. I mention 
this fact because these men composed the ten thousand 
prisoners General Pope telegraphed Washington that he had 
taken in his great victory. All the Northern newspapers 
published this dispatch at the time and made such a hero of 
Pope that he was shortly afterwards placed in command of 
the Army of the Potomac, with what result history records. 



70 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

My brother-in-law, the late Brigadier-General R. C. Drum, 
who was adjutant-general of the United States Army for 
many years, told me that he had frequently seen that 
dispatch in the archives of his ofhce, but some years after 
he was retired. General Pope denied that such a paper 
existed and dared the newspaper reporters to produce it. 
They were allowed to search the archives, but it was not to 
be found. 

We lay for several days at anchor near Tiptonville, 
expecting every moment that the Federal ironclads would 
come down and attack us, but they did not put in an appear- 
ance before we left. Nevertheless, we received a very un- 
pleasant surprise one morning while we were at breakfast 
when the cottonwood trees on the opposite side of the river 
suddenly tumbled down and a long line of guns opened fire 
on us. We got up our anchors as quickly as possible and 
went into action, with the result that our flotilla suffered 
considerably. The first disaster happened when a shell 
burst in the pantry of the Livingston and smashed all of 
Commander Pinckney's beautiful chinaware of which he 
was very proud. The General Polk then received several 
shells in her hull on the water line and was run ashore to 
keep her from sinking, and the other boats were cut up con- 
siderably, but running close in to the masked batteries the 
grape and canister from our big guns caused the enemy 
to limber up and disappear. Commodore Hollins said "the 
campaign had taught him one thing and that was that gun- 
boats were not fitted for chasing cavalry." 

It was at Tiptonville that Commodore Hollins received a 
message from the senior naval officer at New Orleans beg- 
ging him to bring his gunboats as quickly as possible, as it 
was certain that Admiral Farragut would soon try to dash 
by Forts Jackson and St. Philip. No one knew the danger 
better than the old commodore did. Ordering his flagship 
to follow, he went on board of the fast Ivy accompanied by 
his small aide, and we started at full speed for New Orleans. 



Fort Jackson under Bombardment 71 

At Fort Pillow we stopped so that the commodore could 
send a telegram to the Secretary of the Navy asking him to 
order all the gunboats to follow him. I also carried a com- 
munication to General Villapigue, the commander of Fort 
Pillow, telling him of the fall of Island Number 10 and 
New Madrid, and advising him to prepare for an attack by 
the enemy's ironclads. We also stopped at Baton Rouge, 
where I took ashore more telegrams for the Navy Depart- 
ment at Richmond, for the capital had been removed to 
that city by this time. The authorities at Richmond, like 
swivel-chair naval strategists all over the world, differed 
entirely with the naval officers as to what was best to be 
done with the gunboats and never sent them any instruc- 
tions at all. 

Arriving at New Orleans, Commodore Hollins made his 
headquarters at the old St. Charles Hotel, and I was imme- 
diately sent down to the forts with a communication for 
General Duncan, who was in command, in which the com- 
modore asked the general where he would like the gun- 
boats placed for the coming fight and suggesting the head 
of the reach above the forts as the most effective position 
for them to take up. 

I found on my arrival that Fort Jackson was undergoing 
a most terrific bombardment from Commander Porter's 
mortar fleet which was hidden behind the trees around the 
bend below. The air was full of shells and the fort was full 
of smoke from their explosions. 

Accompanying Commander Kennon, captain of the Gov- 
ernor Moore, we crossed the bridge over the moat which was 
the only means of access to the old-fashioned brick fortress. 
As we walked a shell fell into the moat and gave us a dirty 
shower bath, at the same time disturbing several large alli- 
gators who lashed the water furiously with their tails. En- 
tering through the sallyport we saw no one but a solitary 
sentry, as the whole garrison was gathered in the casemates 
to protect them from the mortar fire. The fort was filled 



72 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

with debris. However, we had a very pleasant dinner with 
General Duncan, after which I returned to New Orleans. 

I found the commodore busy with the preparations of 
the Louisiana, a most marvelous craft shaped like a huge 
square box. From her midship section aft she divided into 
two hulls and between them were placed two paddlewheels, 
one large and one small, the smaller one being placed in 
front of the big ones, so as to insure the latter's working in 
a mill-race when both were turning at the same time. On 
her sides were iron rails for an armor. At her trial trip it 
was found that it was with difficulty she kept up with the 
current when going downstream, and when pointed up- 
stream she was carried down at the rate of two or three 
knots an hour. Towed back to the wharf, two engines from 
little tugs were placed aboard, one in each of her sterns. 
This increased power was not perceptible, and as she would 
not steer, she was towed down the river and moored to the 
bank where she served as an additional fort. 

The other ironclad was a magnificent vessel. She had 
real plates for her armor and they were of great thickness. 
She had great power, having triple screws, and her battery 
was to consist of eighteen of the heaviest guns. Had she 
been completed in time, she would have been like a bull 
in a china shop among Admiral Farragut's light wooden 
sloops-of-war. But the great admiral knew as much about 
her as we did and had no intention of postponing his attack 
until she was finished. 

Our gunboats from up the river had not arrived, — they 
never did, — but instead were run into the various tribu- 
taries of the lower Mississippi and destroyed by their own 
crews. I cannot say that they would have stopped Admiral 
Farragut's fleet, but their eighteen guns would have made 
it more interesting for him when he passed the forts. 

All was work and hurry preparing for the great fight when 
one morning I went into the commodore's room and found 
the old gentleman seated by his work-table holding a tele- 



Death of Captain Huger 73 

gram in one hand while his head was bowed in evident dis- 
tress. When he became aware of my presence he raised his 
head and proffering the telegram said, " Read this." If the 
message had been sent to a cabin boy it would have been 
sufficiently curt to have wounded his feelings. It read: 
" Report in Richmond in person and give an account of your 
conduct" — signed, "S. R. Mallory, Secretary of the 
Navy." On arriving at Richmond a court of inquiry on his 
conduct was held, and as New Orleans had fallen, of course 
he was acquitted. 

Admiral Farragut's victory is a matter of history. The 
McRae was in the thick of the fight. Her sides were riddled 
and the heavy projectiles knocked her guns off the carriages 
and rolled them along the deck crunching the dead and 
wounded. Her deck was a perfect shambles. Captain Huger 
was struck in the groin by a grapeshot and afterwards his 
temple was laid open by a canister bullet. When taken 
below he pleaded with Mr. Read, saying, " Mr. Read, don't 
surrender my little ship. I have always promised myself 
that I would fight her until she was under the water!" And 
right gallantly did "Savez" Read keep his word to his 
stricken captain, for when day broke the McRae was the 
only thing afloat with the Confederate flag flying. Admiral 
Farragut, with his flagship the Hartford, was by this time 
at the Quarantine Station, about four miles above the forts. 
Read sent the only boat he had that would float over to the 
Hartford to tell Admiral Farragut the condition of his ves- 
sel and the difliculty he was having to keep her afloat — 
that he did not have a gun left on a carriage, and no one to 
care for his dying captain or the many other wounded. 
Admiral Farragut asked why he did not haul his flag down 
and was told of the promise to the captain. Admiral Far- 
ragut then sent word to Read to bring the McRae along- 
side the Hartford, and then gave him permission to proceed 
to New Orleans, saying that he would tell him there what 
disposition he would make of the ship. When she arrived at 



74 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

New Orleans the McRae was leaking like a sieve; the ex- 
hausted remnant of the crew refused to continue at the 
pumps, and as the last wounded men were taken out of the 
ship — down she went. 

Admiral Dewey, the admiral of the United States Navy, 
was a shipmate of Read's on board of the frigate Powhatan 
when the war broke out, and at the battle of New Orleans 
was the executive officer of the frigate Mississippi which was 
afterwards sunk at Port Hudson. The admiral told me that 
Read had not acted fairly about the sinking of the McRae 
and escaping himself, as he had cut the sea-pipes to hasten 
her foundering. But the McRae did not go down with her 
flag flying, for just as her spanker gaff was about to disap- 
pear beneath the muddy waters of the Mississippi, a boat 
from one of the Federal men-of-war (already arrived oppo- 
site the city) dashed up to the sinking ship and removed 
the flag from its proud position at the peak. 

Commodore Hollins I saw once again after the war was 
over — it was at Charleston, South Carolina in 1867. This 
fine old gentleman and able seaman, who had commanded 
fleets in the United States Navy as well as in the Confed- 
eracy, and who had been the honored guest of royalty, was 
then in command of a miserable little coaster trading be- 
tween Baltimore and Charleston. He died a few years 
afterwards while holding the position of "crier" of a minor 
court in Baltimore. A like fate was the lot of many of the 
officers who resigned from the old navy to serve the Confed- 
eracy. 



CHAPTER IX 

Farragut's fleet at New Orleans — Mob threatens to kill his officers who 
demand the surrender of the city — Farragut threatens to destroy the city if 
a hair of their heads is hurt — Pierre Soule's hypnotic forefinger saves the 
critical situation — I take to the swamp — The " Irreconcilable Home Guard " 
— Reach General Lovell's camp at Amite — Reach Norfolk in time for the 
evacuation — Richmond — The battle between the U.S. Ironclads Galena, 
Monitor, and Naugatuck and Drewry's Bluff batteries — Battle of Seven 
Pines (Fair Oaks) — Seven Days' Battle. 

Admiral Farragut's fleet was anchored in line in front 
of New Orleans. He sent Captain Bailey and his flag lieuten- 
ant on shore to demand the surrender of the city. The 
mayor received them at the Mint, a public building situ- 
ated on Esplanade Street, near the river. I saw a great 
crowd gather in front of the place of meeting and heard the 
threats made that they were going to kill the Federal officers 
when they came out. The mob little knew that the sailors 
of the fleet were standing with lanyards in hand and that 
the great guns were trained on the city as well as on them- 
selves. They were also ignorant of the fact that Admiral 
Farragut had sworn, if a hair on the heads of his officers 
was hurt, he would not leave two stones on top of each 
other in the city of New Orleans. 

The mob, which was composed of men who had funked 
going to the front, seemed determined to bring destruction 
on themselves as well as on the innocent women and chil- 
dren of the place. How to get the Federal officers out of the 
building after the meeting and thus avoid disaster was the 
question which agitated the city officials when Mr. Soul6, 
formerly a United States Senator, and also United States 
Minister to Spain, came to their rescue. He was the pos- 
sessor of wonderful eloquence and a hypnotic forefinger. 
He told the mayor that he believed he could hold the atten- 
tion of the mob while the naval officers were passed out of 
a back door. He appeared on the portico and was received 



76 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

with cheers. He raised his arm and that magic forefinger 
commenced to tremble and there was instant silence. I 
thought the finger would never stop trembling, but it was 
evident that as long as it did so it fascinated the attention 
of the crowd. I don't remember what he said, but I do 
recollect that he commenced his speech with the words, 
"Sons of Louisiana," when at last he broke the silence with 
his wonderful and sonorous voice, which had a strong 
French accent. Long before he had finished talking the 
United States officers were safely back on board of the 
Hartford. New Orleans never paid her debt to Mr. Soul6. 
It is appalling to think of the havoc a few hundred bushels 
of grapeshot scattered amongst that mob would have 
wrought, to say nothing of the destruction of the old city. 

Leaving the Mint, Mr. Sould proceeded to the telegraph 
office and wired the provost marshal at Vicksburg to arrest 
the Tift brothers, the contractors who had built the formid- 
able ironclad Mississippi, charging them with treason for 
having destroyed that vessel and ordering them to be con- 
fined in prison. This order was carried out, although at the 
time Mr. Soule occupied no office either civil or military 
under the Confederacy, and despite the fact that Captain 
St. Clair was on board of the same steamboat with the 
Tifts when it arrived at Vicksburg and assured the provost 
marshal that the Mississippi had been burned by his, St. 
Clair's, orders when he found it impossible to tow her up 
the river on account of her size, as he wished to prevent her 
falling into the hands of the enemy. 

I had neither ambition nor desire to take a trip North 
or to spend an indefinite time in a Northern prison, so with 
all speed I hied me unto the country behind the city, where 
I found a train waiting on a siding, and with neither money 
nor ticket and without invitation I boarded it without the 
least idea of where I was going — and I did not care much 
so long as my destination was outside of the limits of the 
city where I was born. 



General Lovell's Camp ^^ 

I found the train crowded with a lot of prosperous and 
ponderous old gentlemen who were members of the "Home 
Guard," clothed in every conceivable garb, except that of a 
soldier — each one of them being hampered by a musket 
which he did not know how to handle. They were all swear- 
ing by a multitudinous variety of strange gods that death 
was preferable to existence under the detested Yankee's 
rule. At the first stop at Manchac Pass it was noticed that 
their numbers perceptibly decreased, and after passing the 
second station there was plenty of room in the coaches and 
some people had even a whole seat to themselves. We 
arrived at Amite, where I had once been at school, and we 
detrained. General Lovell, who commanded the troops, 
had determined to make this place his headquarters and 
already there was quite a large camp there. The remnant of 
the "Home Guard" stood the rigors of camp life for a day 
or two, and then, deciding that the duty of a home guard 
was to guard his home, silently and singly, without consult- 
ing their superiors, they sneaked off to count how many 
railroad ties there were between Amite and their home com- 
forts. It was afterwards said that the wretched condition 
of Napoleon's soldiers on the retreat from Moscow was not 
a circumstance to the plight in which these fat old gentle- 
men arrived at their comfortable mansions in New Orleans, 
convinced that the killing of Yankees was work fitted only 
for butchers. 

We spent several days at Amite waiting for transporta- 
tion farther north. I say "we," because on the train I had 
met Commander Pegram and a number of naval ofHcers 
who were to have been attached to the ill-fated Mississippi. 
Among these officers was gallant Clarence Cary, who was 
to become my lifelong friend, and Frank Dawson, who was 
eventually to become my brother-in-law. These officers had 
recently made a sensational dash through the blockade in 
the Nashville, and they were now on their way to Norfolk for 
further orders. A waif myself, I decided to join their party. 



78 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

The trains in the Confederacy were not allowed to run 
faster than ten miles an hour, and the particular train on 
which we traveled to Virginia broke down every few miles, 
so 1 doubt if we even averaged that slow speed. There were 
so many soldiers on the train that it was difficult to get 
refreshments at the various little stations, and on this jour- 
ney I had my first experience in going hungry for more than 
twenty-four hours at a time, but as I was ill and suffering 
from old-fashioned chills and fever, which I had contracted 
on the lower Mississippi, I don't remember that I missed 
the food greatly. 

Arriving at Norfolk I parted with my compagtio?ts de 
voyage and went on board of the Merrimac on which I knew 
two of my old shipmates on the McRae were serving — 
Lieutenant Eggleston and Midshipman Marmaduke. It 
was only recently that the Merrimac had been engaged in 
her great fights in Hampton Roads. I gazed with admiration 
on the shot-holes in her armor and felt sure that she could 
whip anything afloat, and I believe her officers and crew 
thought so too. I little dreamed that before many hours 
she was to be ingloriously destroyed by her own crew on 
account of her drawing too much water to go up the James 
River. 

Mr. Eggleston advised me to go at once and report to 
Captain Sidney Smith Lee, the elder brother of General 
Robert E. Lee, who was in command of the naval station, 
and ask him for orders. As I passed through the streets on 
my way I saw many batteries of artillery and regiments of 
infantry hurrying in one direction and accompanied by 
trains of wagons. When I came into the presence of Captain 
Lee, before I had a chance to say a word he demanded to 
know what I was doing there. When I told him that I was 
a fugitive from New Orleans, his whole manner changed 
and he said, "You appear to be ill, sir." I replied, "Chills 
and fever, sir." And the next moment he said, "You must 
leave here at once; this place is being evacuated!" I asked 



Richmond 79 

him where I should go, and he replied, "Any place so that 
you get out of here." And then turning to a clerk he told 
him to make out an order for transportation for me to 
Richmond. 

On my way to and at the station, I saw many queer 
sights. There were orderly commands marching out of the 
place and disorganized mobs of men in uniform who were 
free from all restraint and discipline. At one place a gang 
of men were trying to put a heavy piece of artillery on a 
light spring wagon drawn by one horse! I don't think they 
succeeded in doing it, but I did not wait to see the result of 
their labors. At the station there was a crowd of civilians, 
and piles of household goods; also many pretty and jolly 
girls who seemed to regard the matter as a picnic devised to 
amuse them. Government mules were being driven by in 
droves scattering the crowd in every direction. There were 
crates containing pigs and chickens blocking the way, and 
everything seemed to be in inconceivable confusion — 
infantrymen with arms, and infants in arms, jostling each 
other. One poor old stout woman carrying her baby was 
anxiously searching for her baggage and only found some- 
body else's lost four-year-old boy who clung to her skirts 
with such a grip that she could not shake him off. Every- 
body was in a hurry to get to some place, but few seemed to 
know what the name of the place was. 

After a most uncomfortable journey I arrived in Rich- 
mond. I had noticed in Norfolk that people looked at me 
askance, if not with real enmity expressed in their glances in 
my direction, but that was nothing In comparison to the gruff 
way I was treated in Richmond if I dared ask a stranger to 
direct me on my way. It did not take me long to find out 
the cause — it was my blue uniform with the United States 
naval buttons. The gray uniform for naval officers had not 
reached New Orleans before its fall, but the blue was an 
unusual sight in Richmond except when it was worn by a 
Union soldier who was a prisoner. I was told that but for 



8o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

my youth and small stature I might have been roughly 
handled. However, I soon got rid of the hated blue, as I 
had a little money due me and had the good fortune to meet 
Paymaster Semple, a son-in-law of ex-President Tyler, with 
whom I had been shipmates for a time on board of the Mc- 
Rae. He advanced me on my pay and I was soon arrayed in 
gray like the rest. 

I was a very lonely little boy in Richmond for a few days. 
Louisiana was farther away in those days than it is in these 
of fast express trains, and somehow I was made to feel as 
though I was a foreigner. I suppose that was on account of 
our accent being different from that of other Southerners. 
It was only a few years ago in Washington when I was in- 
troduced to a Southern lady, my only recommendation being 
that I was a Confederate veteran, that she looked at me 
doubtfully and said, "Mr. Morgan, I can't believe that you 
are a Southerner; you neither look nor talk like any South- 
erner I ever met before." I replied, "Madam, I can assure 
you that had I been born any farther south than I was, I 
would have had to come into this world either as a pom- 
pino or a soft-shell crab, for the hard ground stops where 
I was born in the southern part of Louisiana!" 

When I received my orders they were to the naval battery 
at Drewry's Bluff, seven miles below Richmond on the 
James River — a place of great natural strength. Pits were 
dug, wooden platforms were built at the bottom of them, 
and the guns were mounted on navy carriages with all their 
blocks and tackle such as were used on board of the men-of- 
war of that day. It was manned by sailors principally from 
the gallant crew of the Merrimac. The river had been bar- 
ricaded by sinking in the channel the ocean-going steamship 
Jamestown and several steamboats besides crates made of 
logs and filled with stone, leaving only a narrow passage- 
way for our own boats. It was while there that I witnessed 
a most magnificent exhibition of coolness and nerve — 
Commander John Rodgers, U.S.N., had been ordered to 



Ironclads and Drewry's Bluff Batteries 8i 

test the new ironclad under his command to find out whether 
she was shot-proof or not. Her name was the Galena. 

It was about eight o'clock on the morning of the i6th of 
May, 1862, that we saw a squadron consisting of the Galena, 
the original Monitor (the one that fought the Merrimac), 
the ironclad Naugatuck, and two wooden gunboats coming 
up the river, and our drums beat to quarters while we rushed 
to our stations at the guns. Neither Commander Farrand, 
who commanded at Drewry's Bluff, nor Commander Rodg- 
ers, who commanded the Federal squadron, seemed in any 
hurry to open fire, so we in the battery waited patiently 
at our silent guns while the Galena came up to within four 
hundred yards of us accompanied by the Monitor, the rest 
of the squadron remaining below the bend seeking its pro- 
tection from our plunging fire. The Monitor also dropped 
below, as her flat decks made her particularly vulnerable. 
The Galena quietly and peacefully, as though no enemy 
was within miles of her, let go her anchor. She then got out 
a hawser which sailors call a "spring," and made it fast 
to her anchor chain. Paying out her cable she swung across 
the stream, which brought her broadside to bear on us. 
Down the river-bank, hidden by the bushes, were two or 
three thousand Confederate infantrymen. 

Commander Rodgers was most leisurely in his move- 
ments. At last he fired a shot to get our range; there were 
no range-finders in those days, and it could only be found 
by experiment. That gun was the signal for the fun to com- 
mence. It was not necessary for us to find the range, as 
from our great height we had only to fire down on him; 
our guns were depressed to such an extent that we had to 
put grommets of rope over our round projectiles to keep 
them from rolling out of the muzzles. The shot from the 
Galena was our signal to open fire, and for three hours we 
were at it hammer and tongs. The Galena was perforated 
twenty-two times without counting the shots which struck 
her without going through her armor. The riflemen on the 



82 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

river-bank fairly rained bullets at her portholes, one of 
which became jammed, and when a sailor put his arm out- 
side in an attempt to free it, the limb fell into the river 
amputated by musket balls. The wooden gunboats around 
the bend also suffered the loss of several men. 

Although we were supposed to be safe in our covered gun 
pits perched so high on the bluff, all had not been cakes and 
ale with us. Several men had been killed and wounded; 
among them my classmate at Annapolis, Midshipman 
Carroll, of Maryland, had been literally cut in two by a 
shell. 

When Commander Rodgers had satisfied himself that the 
Galena was not shot-proof, he weighed his anchor as delib- 
erately as though he was about to leave a friendly port, and 
dropped slowly and in a most dignified way down the river. 
He had lost many men in killed and wounded. Commander 
Rodgers, in his report to the Secretary of the Navy, says: 
"The result of our experiment with the Galena I enclose. 
We demonstrated that she is not shot-proof; balls came 
through and many men were killed with fragments of her 
own iron. . . . The Galena should be repaired before send- 
ing her to sea." 

Sailors are a generous lot and admire gallantry whether 
shown by friend or foe, and the men in the gun pits at 
Drewry's Bluff gave hearty cheers for the Galena as she 
drew out of action. * 

Historians seem to be Ignorant concerning the impor- 
tance of this fight. At the time there was nothing between 
Richmond and the Federal squadron but the guns of 
Drewry's Bluff. A passage had purposely been left through 
the obstructions in the river for our own boats and it was 
sufficiently wide and deep for the Federal vessels to have 
passed through. McClellan's army was within a few miles 
of the capital, and if Commander Rodgers's squadron had 
not been stopped by the naval battery there was nothing 
else to prevent them from going on to Richmond. 




U.S. IRONCLAD GALENA 



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rSjL4teM^>>h*ik 



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C.S. IRONCLAD CHICORA 
On which the author served at Charleston 



Battle of Seven Pines 83 

General Joe Johnston's army was now at Richmond, 
and I obtained a short leave to go to the city to see my 
brother George who was a captain and acting quartermas- 
ter in Blanchard's Louisiana brigade. I accompanied him 
to the front and found many friends among the Louisiana 
boys. There was with the brigade a light battery, in which 
there were many young men from Baton Rouge, and one 
day, while a number of us were sitting at the foot of a large 
tree, in fancied security, and watching a captive balloon 
belonging to the enemy, bullets began to rattle against the 
trunk of the tree, and we got away from there as quickly as 
possible. Horses were rapidly hitched to the caissons, the 
guns were limbered up, and the battery dashed off to an- 
other part of the field. The picket firing by that time had 
increased until it had become a constant rattle sounding 
somewhat like the roll of hundreds of snare drums. 

Blanchard's brigade was in Huger's division on the ex- 
treme right of our army. I made my way to the camp of 
the First Louisiana, which I found under arms. Their part 
in the battle of Seven Pines, or Fair Oaks, as the Federals 
called It, had begun. The regiment advanced and I followed 
on behind until suddenly I saw an officer riding up to where 
General Blanchard and his staff were seated on their horses. 
Before he reached them his horse suddenly reared and in 
that instant I recognized my brother. The horse fell dead, 
and when I came up I found he was lying on one of George's 
legs and that George could not extricate himself. It was a 
big undertaking for me, but I managed to move the fore 
shoulder of that horse far enough to free my brother. He 
was quite severely hurt and had to be removed to the rear. 
That was all I saw of the battle of Seven Pines. Could I 
have seen what was going on on the other side, I should 
have beheld my dear cousin. Colonel A. S. M. Morgan, 
being borne off the field — shot through both hips, while 
gallantly leading his regiment, the Second Pennsylvania. 

I accompanied my brother to Richmond where he was 



84 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

carried to the most fashionable hostelry in the city, the 
old Spotswood Hotel, and I remained there for several days 
with him. The doors of the bedrooms on the corridors were 
mostly kept open and it seemed to me that a game of poker 
was going on in every room. The lobby of the hotel was 
crowded with officers, most of whom carried an arm in a 
sling. The cause of this was the wearing of the flaring gold 
chevrons on their sleeves to indicate their rank. They 
made beautiful targets for the sharpshooters; but not for 
long, as later in the war even generals wore only three small 
stars on their coat- collars. 

Passing through the lobby one morning I met an old 
acquaintance, a Louisiana Zouave, dressed in red Turkish 
trousers with a short blue jacket elaborately trimmed with 
yellow braid — of course he too had an arm in a sling. He 
stopped me and asked if I had seen the "zoozoo" fight — 
he was very enthusiastic and very excitable. "Oh!" said 
he, in broken English, "You ought to see ze zoozoo fight. 
Colonel Copin he draw his long sabre and say, 'Charge!* 
We charge and we charge right on top ze Yankee breast- 
work ; Yankee drop down and say ' quatta ! ' ' quatta ! * I say, 
*No quatta fer Bootla [Butler]: I stick he wid de bay- 
onette!'" Those Acadians imagined that they were only 
engaged in a holy crusade against the tyrant of New 
Orleans. 

My brother George thought that a little trip to the hills 
would benefit my health, and as he had heard that "Stone- 
wall" Jackson's division was at Gordonsville, he furnished 
me with the means to go there where I would be with my 
brother Gibbes, then a captain in the Seventh Louisiana 
Regiment. I found him flushed with victory, having just 
returned from the marvelous Shenandoah Valley campaign 
in which Jackson had fought so many battles in so few 
weeks, and he seemed very proud to belong to Jackson's 
"foot cavalry." To my great delight I found my brother's 
young and beautiful wife with him. It was no uncommon 



At Drewry's Bluff 85 

thing at that time for the wives of officers to follow their 
husbands so as to be near the battle-fields. Unfortunately 
for me, my pleasure at being with my favorite brother and 
his wife was of short duration, as in a few hours after my 
arrival in Gordonsville, Jackson's "foot cavalry" moved 
on, and I returned to Richmond. 

On my arrival in Richmond I saw several thousand Union 
prisoners, guarded by Confederates, seated on the ground, 
resting themselves. Few if any of them could speak English 
and the most accomplished linguists among them could 
only say, "I fights mit Sigel." 

At Drewry's Bluff we lived in tents and were very com- 
fortable. Parties composed of ladies and gentlemen would 
frequently visit the Bluff and they made it quite gay; be- 
sides, by this time, quite a large number of midshipmen 
were stationed there and they made it lively for their 
superior officers as well as for themselves. I had while there 
an interesting experience in steering the boat from which 
Commander Matthew F. Maury buoyed the places in the 
river where he afterwards had placed what were probably 
the first floating mines used in war. We called them "spar 
torpedoes" as the mines were attached to an anchored and 
floating spar. 

I shall never forget a very unpleasant hour in connection 
with these mines. Colonel Page, a former officer of the 
navy, who looked to be about seven feet high, wanted to 
go from Drewry's Bluff to Chapin's Bluff, a fortification 
that he commanded, on the opposite side of the river and 
about a mile below. I was ordered to take charge of the 
boat that was to take him to his post because it was sup- 
posed I knew where the mines were. It was a dark night, 
but we got on all right for some distance. Suddenly the 
side of the boat grated against something and the boat 
slightly careened. Colonel Page, whose sobriquet in the 
navy was "Ramrod" on account of his erect bearing, and 
who was well known in the service as a very strict disci- 



86 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

plinarian, exclaimed, "What Is that? — I thought you knew 
where the torpedoes were." "Yes, sir," I replied, "that 
is one of them." There was silence in the boat until we 
reached the little wharf at Chapin's Bluff, and when Colonel 
Page disembarked he expressed his opinion of me and my 
professional accomplishments in language which left noth- 
ing for the imagination to work on. Had the boat been a 
little heavier we should all have gone to heaven by the most 
direct route. 

"Stonewall" Jackson's army came down from the Valley 
and joined General Lee. I went over to the camp of the 
Seventh Louisiana to see my brother Gibbes, and while I 
did not participate in any of the battles of the "Seven 
Days," I saw some of the fighting. One day McClellan sent 
an ammunition train, with a fuse attached to it, down the 
railroad tracks — of course it was running "wild." Jack- 
son's division, thinking that it carried reinforcements, 
rushed for the railroad intending to fire into it as it passed, 
but while they were some distance away the train exploded 
destroying many windows in Richmond, several miles away. 
For two or three days after the explosion a negro boy who 
waited on my brother and the officers of his company was 
not to be found. This boy had always bragged that in 
action he was to the front, and continually boasted about 
the number of Yankees he had killed. When he finally 
turned up and was asked the meaning of his long absence, 
he replied: "Mass' Gibbes, I stood their shot and shell and 
bullets, but when it came to shootin' a whole train of cars 
at one poor nigger I tell you de truf, sah, I done lit out right 
dar and den!" 

At this time I had been detached from Drewry's Bluff 
and was on board of the gunboat Beaufort, a small river 
tug about forty feet long and carrying one small gun on her 
forecastle; her complement consisted of two officers and 
eight men — she was crowded. This little boat had covered 



Naval Discipline 87 

herself all over with glory when the Merrimac sank the frig- 
ates Congress and Cumberland. The Beaufort was then 
commanded by Lieutenant William H. Parker, and it was 
to the Beaufort that the Congress surrendered. She was 
now commanded by Lieutenant Sharp, who had many 
other duties to attend to at the ordnance works and else- 
where, so that he was very little on board his ship(?). 

We were lying alongside the river-bank at Rockett's (the 
lower end of Richmond) one day, when my brother Gibbes 
made me a visit. We were cozily chatting about home when 
a quartermaster poked his head in at the little cabin door 
and, saluting, said, ''Jurgenson has come aboard, sir." I 
replied, "Very good, quartermaster." The man then said, 
"Jurgenson is drunk and noisy, sir." I said, "Tell Jurgen- 
son to turn into his bunk and keep quiet." There was an 
awful din going on forward and the quartermaster came 
back and reported that the man would not keep quiet. "All 
right," I said, "tell the master-at-arms to put him in double 
irons and gag and buck him unless he stops his racket." 
The quartermaster saluted and again withdrew. Gibbes 
looked at me with amazement and asked me if it was possi- 
ble that a little boy like myself had authority to order such 
severe punishment. I told him that I was not a little boy 
on that boat, but for the moment I was her commanding 
officer. He then expressed doubts as to whether the master- 
at-arms would obey the order and wanted me to go outside 
with him and see. I declined, on the ground that it might 
look as though I doubted if my orders would be carried 
out, and Gibbes went forward to see for himself. He came 
back shortly shaking his head and said that he must return 
to his command, as he wanted to tell the boys what he had 
seen that day. I tried to make him understand that I had 
not indulged in any cruelty on my own part, but that in the 
navy every misdemeanor had its punishment set forth in 
the Regulations and that I was liable to punishment myself 
if I did not carry out the orders. I told him that Jurgenson 



88 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

was an old man-of-warsman and knew as well if not better 
than I what was going to happen if he did not obey the 
order to keep silence and behave himself. I could not make 
Gibbes believe that I was very fond of old Jurgenson; that 
he was one of the best men in the ship, and that he would 
have lost all respect for me if I had not carried out the disci' 
pline of the service ; that I was going to have the gag taken 
out of his mouth as soon as he stopped yelling. It was all of 
no avail, my gallant volunteer brother left, still shaking his 
head and repeating, "I must go back and tell my boys 
what I have seen this day." That was the last time I 
ever saw my brother. 



CHAPTER X 

Charleston — Commodore Ingraham — C. S. Ironclad Chicora — The loot- 
ing of my home in Baton Rouge — George Hollins dies of yellow fever — The 
Honorable George A. Trenholm — Naval officers " never unbutton their coats" 
— Ordered abroad. 

With all my State pride, I must acknowledge that the 
article of chills and fever handed to me on the James River 
was superior to the brand on the lower Mississippi, and, 
complicated by chronic dysentery, so sapped my strength 
that the doctor ordered me to show myself at the Navy 
Department and ask for orders to some other station. 
Commodore French Forrest was chief of the Bureau of 
"Orders and Detail," and I really thought he had some 
sympathy for my condition when he looked me over. He 
asked me where I would like to be ordered to, and I quickly 
said that I would be delighted if I was sent to the naval 
battery at Port Hudson. The commodore then asked if I 
had relatives near there, and on my assuring him that my 
mother and sisters were refugees and were staying at the 
plantation of General Carter, only a few miles distant, he 
turned to a clerk and said, " Make out an order for Mid- 
shipman Morgan to report to Commodore Ingraham at 
Charleston, South Carolina. I don't believe in having young 
officers tied to their mothers' apron strings." — And so to 
Charleston I went. 

Commodore Ingraham, to whom I reported, was the man 
who some years previously, when in command of the little 
sloop-of-war St. Louis in the port of Smyrna, had bluffed 
an Austrian frigate and compelled her to surrender Martin 
Koszta, a naturalized American citizen, whom they held 
as a prisoner. This act made Ingraham the idol of the peo- 
ple at that time; if repeated in this day (191 6), it would 
cost an officer his commission. Commodore Ingraham also 



90 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

commanded the Confederate gunboats when they drove 
the Federal blockading fleet away from Charleston. 

I was assigned to the Chicora, a little ironclad that was 
being built between two wharves which served as a navy 
yard. She was not nearly completed, so I was forced to 
hunt for quarters on shore. Being directed to a miserable 
boarding-house which was fourth-rate, and consequently 
supposed to be cheap, I found that the cheapest board to be 
had was at the rate of forty-five dollars a month, so I did 
not see exactly how I could manage it, as my shore pay was 
only forty. However, the generous hotel proprietor, when 
the situation was explained, consented to let me stay for 
that sum on condition that I would make up the other five 
dollars if my friends at home sent me any money. The man 
was certainly taking a long chance for that extra five dol- 
lars. Where were my friends, and where was my home? 
My mother and sisters were refugees ; and as for home — 
the following extract from Mrs. McHattan-Ripley's book 
"From Flag to Flag" will give some idea of its condition. 
Mrs. McHattan lived on a plantation about three miles 
below Baton Rouge and after the battle visited the town. 
She says: — 

At last I descended and walked the dusty, littered, shadeless 
streets from square to square. Seeing the front door of the late 
Judge Morgan's house thrown wide open, and knowing that his 
widow and daughters, after asking protection for their property 
of the commanding general, had left before the battle, I entered. 
No words can tell the scene that those deserted rooms presented. 
The grand portraits, heirlooms of that aristocratic family, — men 
of the Revolutionary period, high-bred dames of a long-past 
generation, in short bodices, puffed sleeves, towering head- 
dresses, and quaint golden chains, ancestors long since dead, not 
only valuable as likenesses that could not be duplicated, but 
acknowledged works of art, — these portraits hung from the walls, 
slashed by swords clear across from side to side, stabbed and 
mutilated in every brutal way! The contents of store-closets had 
been poured over the floors; molasses and vinegar and everything 
that defaces and stains had been smeared over the walls and fur- 



George Hollins 91 

niture. Upstairs, armoires with mirror-doors had been smashed 
in with heavy axes or hammers, and the dainty dresses of the 
young ladies torn and crushed with studied, painstaking maHg- 
nity, while china, toilet articles, and bits of glass that ornamented 
the rooms were thrown upon the beds and broken and ground into 
a mass of fragments. Desks were wrenched open, and the con- 
tents scattered, not only through the house; but out upon the 
streets, to be wafted in all directions; parts of their private letters 
as well as letters from the desks of other violated homes, and 
family records torn from numberless Bibles, were found on the 
sidewalks of the town, and even on the public roads beyond town 
limits. 

Lieutenant Warley, with whom I had served on the 
McRae, was the only living human being I knew in Charles- 
ton, and the great difference in our rank, as well as age, 
precluded the possibility of my making a companion of him; 
so, a lonely boy, I roamed the streets of the quaint old city. 
Evidently the war as yet had had no effect on the style kept 
up by the old blue-bloods, for I was amazed to see hand- 
some equipages, with coachmen in livery on the box, driving 
through the town. Little did their owners dream that before 
very long those same fine horses would be hauling artillery 
and commissary wagons, and those proud liveried servants 
would be at work with pick and spade throwing up breast- 
works ! 

To my great delight, George Hollins, a son of my dearly 
loved old commodore, a boy of about my own age with 
whom I had been shipmate on the Mississippi River, 
arrived in town, and the boarding-house man consented to 
allow him to share my little room at the same rate charged 
me. George had been in Charleston only a few days when 
yellow fever became epidemic. It was the latter part of 
August and the heat was something fearful. I had no fear 
of the fever, as I had been accustomed to its frequent visits 
to my old home, but with Hollins, a native of Baltimore, it 
was different. 

One afternoon he came into our room and complained of 



92 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

a headache and a pain in his back. The symptoms were 
familiar to me, so I persuaded him to go to bed and covered 
him with the dirty rag of a blanket. I then went quickly 
downstairs and asked the wife of the proprietor to let me 
have some hot water for a footbath and also to give me a 
little mustard. The woman was shocked at my presump- 
tion, but consented to give me the hot water; at parting with 
the mustard she demurred. As I was about to leave her 
kitchen she demanded to know what I wanted with hot 
water, and when I told her that my friend had the yellow 
fever, there was a scene in which she accused me of trying 
to ruin the reputation of the house and threatened me with 
dire punishment from her husband. 

I made Hollins put his feet in the hot water and then I 
went to a near-by druggist, telling him the situation, and 
asking him if he would credit me for the mustard, explaining 
that neither Hollins nor myself had any money. The kindly 
apothecary gave me the mustard and told me I could have 
any medicines needed, and also advised me to go at once 
and see Dr. Lebby, who, he was sure, would attend to the 
case without charge. The doctor came and did all that was 
possible. Poor George grew rapidly worse; he seemed to 
cling to me as his only friend, and could not bear to have 
me leave him for an instant. We slept that night huddled 
up together in the narrow bed. 

The next morning a strange negro man, very well dressed, 
and carrying a bunch of flowers in one hand and a bundle in 
the other, entered the room and proceeded to make himself 
very much at home. When asked what his business was, he 
said he was a yellow-fever nurse. I told him that we had 
no money and could not pay a nurse, at which he burst into 
a broad grin and said that he did not want any money ; that 
he belonged to Mr. Trenholm who had sent him there. 
Throughout the day all sorts of delicacies continued to 
arrive, and to every inquiry as to whom they came from, 
the reply was, "Mr. Trenholm." 




HON. GEORGE A. TRENHOLM 
Secretary of the Confederate States Treasury 



Death of George Hollins 93 

The second night of his illness George was taken with 
the black vomit, which, as I held him in my arms, saturated 
my clothes. A shiver passed through his frame and without 
a word he passed away. Leaving my friend's body in charge 
of the nurse I went in search of Lieutenant Warley, and he 
told me not to worry about his funeral, as Mr. Trenholm 
would make all the arrangements. This Mr. Trenholm, 
unknown to me, seemed to be my providence, as well as 
being all-powerful. George Hollins was buried in the 
beautiful Magnolia Cemetery and immediately after the fu- 
neral Mr. Warley told me that I was not to go back to the 
boarding-house, but was for the present to share his room 
at the Mills House, a fashionable hotel. 

A few days after the funeral I was walking down Broad 
Street with Mr. Warley and we saw coming toward us a 
tall and very handsome man with silvery hair. Mr. Warley 
told me that he was Mr. Trenholm, and that I must thank 
him for all his kindness to my friend. Mr. Trenholm said 
that he was only sorry that he could not have done more 
for the poor boy, and, turning to the lieutenant, said: 
"Warley, can't you let this young gentleman come and stay 
at my house? There are some young people there, and we 
will try and make it pleasant for him." 

I thanked Mr. Trenholm and told him that I had re- 
cently been sleeping in the same bed with my friend, who 
had died of the most virulent form of yellow fever, and of 
course I could not go into anybody's house for some time 
to come; but the generous gentleman assured me that his 
family had no fears of the fever and insisted on my accept- 
ing his kind invitation. However, I did not think it right to 
go, and did not accept at that time; a day or two afterwards, 
however, I again met him with Mr. Warley, and he said, 
"Warley, I am sorry this young gentleman won't accept 
my invitation: we would try to make it pleasant for him." 
Mr. Warley turned to me, saying, "Youngster, you pack 
your bag and go up to Mr. Trenholm's house." 



94 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

That settled it and I went, arriving at the great mansion 
shortly before the dinner hour. I did not, however, take a 
bag with me. If I had owned one, I would not have had any- 
thing to put in it. 

I will not attempt to describe Mr. Trenholm's beautiful 
home. For more than half a century now it has been pointed 
out to tourists as one of the show places of Charleston, and 
it has long since passed into the hands of strangers. I must 
confess that as I opened the iron gate and walked through 
the well-kept grounds to the front door I was a little awed 
by the imposing building, with its great columns supporting 
the portico. I could not but feel some misgivings as to the 
reception I would get, stranger as I was, from the family 
whom I had never met. Still, I did not dare run away, and 
so I timidly rang the bell. A slave, much better dressed 
than myself, and with the manners of a Chesterfield, ap- 
peared and showed me into the parlors; it was all very 
grand, but very lonely, as there was no one there to receive 
me. I took a seat and made myself comfortable ; it had been 
a long time since I had sat on a luxurious sofa. In a few 
minutes two young ladies entered the room. Of course I 
had never seen either of them before, but the idea instantly 
flashed through my mind that I was going to marry the 
taller of the two, who advanced toward me and introduced 
herself as "Miss Trenholm." 

Soon there arrived a Frenchman, a Colonel Le Mat, the 
inventor of the "grapeshot revolver," a horrible contrap- 
tion, the cylinder of which revolved around a section of a 
gun barrel. The cylinder contained ten bullets, and the 
grapeshot barrel was loaded with buckshot which, when 
fired, would almost tear the arm off a man with its recoil. 
Le Mat's English vocabulary was limited, and his only sub- 
ject of conversation was his invention, so he used me to ex- 
plain to the young ladies how the infernal machine worked. 
Now that sounds all very easy, but one must remember that 
Le Mat was a highly imaginative Gaul and insisted on 



Coats never unbuttoned 95 

posing me to illustrate his lecture. This was embarrassing 
— especially as he considered it polite to begin all over 
again as each new guest entered the room. At last relief 
came when Mr. Trenholm came in with a beautiful lady, 
well past middle age, leaning on his arm; and I was intro- 
duced to my hostess, whose kind face and gentle manner 
put me at my ease at once. 

Oh, but it was a good dinner I sat down to that day! 
After all these years the taste of the good things lingers in 
my memory and I can almost smell the "aurora," as Boat- 
swain Miller used to call the aroma, of the wonderful old 
madeira. It was in the month of September and the 
weather was intensely hot ; I had my heavy cloth uniform 
coat buttoned closely, and only the rim of my celluloid collar 
showed above. Dinner over, we assembled in the drawing- 
room where we were enjoying music, when suddenly I 
found myself in a most embarrassing position. Dear, kind 
Mrs. Trenholm was the cause of it. Despite my protesta- 
tions that naval officers were never allowed to open their 
uniform coats, she insisted, as it was so warm, that I should 
unbutton mine and be comfortable. Unbutton that coat! 
Never! I would have died first. I had no shirt under that 
coat; I did not own one. 

When bedtime arrived, Mr, Trenholm escorted me to a 
handsomely furnished room. What a sleep I had that night 
between those snow-white sheets, and what a surprise there 
was in the morning when I opened my eyes and saw a man- 
servant putting studs and cuff-buttons in a clean white 
shirt. On a chair there lay a newly pressed suit of civilian 
togs. I assured the man that he had made a mistake, but 
he told me he had orders from his mistress and that all those 
things and the contents of a trunk he had brought into the 
room were for me, adding that they had belonged to his 
young "Mass' Alfred," a boy of about my own age, whose 
health had broken down in the army and who had been 
sent abroad. I wanted the servant to leave the room so I 



96 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

could rise. I was too modest to get out of bed in his pres- 
ence and too diffident to ask him to leave; but at last re- 
flected that everybody must know that I had no shirt, so I 
jumped up and tumbled into a bath, and when the "body- 
servant" had arrayed me in those fine clothes I hardly 
knew myself. 

After breakfast two horses were brought to the front of 
the house, one, with a lady's saddle was called "Gypsy" 
and was one of the most beautiful Arabs I ever saw (and I 
have seen many) ; the other, a grand chestnut, called " Jonce 
Hooper," one of the most famous race-horses on the South- 
ern turf when the war commenced. He had been bought by 
Colonel William Trenholm, my host's eldest son, for a 
charger, but Colonel Trenholm soon found that the pam- 
pered racer was too delicate for rough field work in time of 
war. Miss Trenholm and I mounted these superb animals 
and that morning and many mornings afterwards we went 
for long rides. In the afternoons I would accompany the 
young ladies in a landau drawn by a superb pair of bays 
with two men on the box. Just at that time the life of a 
Confederate midshipman did not seem to be one of great 
hardship to me; but my life of ease and luxury was fast 
drawing to an end. 

In the evenings the family and their friends used to sit 
on the big porch where tea, cakes, and ice cream were 
served, and the gentlemen could smoke if they felt so in- 
clined. One day the distinguished Commodore Matthew F. 
Maury, who was on his way to Europe to fit out Confeder- 
ate cruisers, dined at the house, and after dinner, with Mr. 
Trenholm, had joined the gay party on the piazza. Mr. 
Trenholm was the head of the firm of Fraser, Trenholm & 
Co., of Liverpool and Charleston, financial agents of the 
Confederate Government. Suddenly Mr. Trenholm came 
over to where I was laughing and talking with a group of 
young people, and asked me if I would like to go abroad 
and join a cruiser. I told him that nothing would delight 



Ordered Abroad 97 

me more, but that those details were for officers who had 
distinguished themselves, or who had influence, and that as 
I had not done the one thing and did not possess the other 
requisite, I could stand no possible chance of being ordered 
to go. Mr. Trenholm said that was not the question; he 
wanted to know if I really wished to go. On being assured 
that I would give anything to have the chance, he returned 
to Commodore Maury and resumed his conversation about 
the peculiarities of the "Gulf Stream." 

Imagine my surprise the next morning when, after return- 
ing from riding, I was handed a telegram, the contents of 
which read: "Report to Commodore M. F. Maury for duty 
abroad. Mr. Trenholm will arrange for your passage"; 
signed, "S. R. Mallory, Secretary of the Navy." It fairly 
took my breath away! 



CHAPTER XI 

Run through the U.S. blockading fleet — Out of our reckoning — Bermuda 
— Blockade-runners throw money into the street — Commodore Wilkes's 
famous ship San Jacinto gives us a scare — Halifax — Sail for England in 
company with some of Her Majesty's Life Guardsmen. 

Mr. Trenholm owned many blockade-runners — one of 
them, the little light-draft steamer Herald, was lying in 
Charleston Harbor loaded with cotton and all ready to 
make an attempt to run through the blockading fleet. 
Commodore Maury, accompanied by his little son, a boy 
of twelve years of age, and myself, whom he had designated 
as his aide-de-camp for the voyage, went on board after 
bidding good-bye to our kind friends. About ten o'clock at 
night we got under way and steamed slowly down the har- 
bor, headed for the sea. The moon was about half full, 
but heavy clouds coming in from the ocean obscured it. 
We passed between the great lowering forts of Moultrie 
and Sumter and were soon on the bar, when suddenly there 
was a rift in the clouds, through which the moon shone 
brightly, and there, right ahead of us, we plainly saw a big 
sloop-of-war! 

There was no use trying to hide. She also had seen us, 
and the order, " Hard-a-starboard ! " which rang out on 
our boat was nearly drowned by the roar of the warship's 
great guns. The friendly clouds closed again and obscured 
the moon, and we rushed back to the protecting guns of 
the forts without having had our paint scratched. Two or 
three more days were passed delightfully in Charleston; 
then there came a drizzling rain and on the night of the 9th 
of October, 1862, we made another attempt to get through 
the blockade. All lights were out except the one in the cov- 
ered binnacle protecting the compass. Not a word was 
spoken save by the pilot, who gave his orders to the man 



Out of our Reckoning 99 

at the wheel in whispers. Captain Coxetter, who com- 
manded the Herald, had previously commanded the priva- 
teer Jeff Davis, and had no desire to be taken prisoner, as 
he had been proclaimed by the Federal Government to be 
a pirate and he was doubtful about the treatment he would 
receive if he fell into the enemy's hands. He was convinced 
that the great danger in running the blockade was in his 
own engine-room, so he seated himself on the ladder leading 
down to it and politely informed the engineer that if the 
engine stopped before he was clear of the fleet, he, the engi- 
neer, would be a dead man. As Coxetter held in his hand 
a Colt's revolver, this sounded like no idle threat. Pres- 
ently I heard the whispered word passed along the deck 
that we were on the bar. This information was imme- 
diately followed by a series of bumps as the little ship rose 
on the seas, which were quite high, and then plunging 
downward, hit the bottom, causing her to ring like an old 
tin pan. However, we safely bumped our way across the 
shallows, and, plunging and tossing in the gale, this little 
cockleshell, whose rail was scarcely five feet above the sea 
level, bucked her way toward Bermuda. She was about as 
much under the water as she was on top of it for most of 
the voyage. 

Bermuda is only six hundred miles from Charleston; a 
fast ship could do the distance easily in forty-eight hours, 
but the Herald was slow: six or seven knots was her ordi- 
nary speed in good weather and eight when she was pushed. 
She had tumbled about In the sea so much that she had put 
one of her engines out of commission and it had to be dis- 
connected. We were thus compelled to limp along with 
one, which of course greatly reduced her speed. On the 
fifth day the weather moderated and we sighted two schoon- 
ers. To our surprise Captain Coxetter headed for them 
and, hailing one, asked for their latitude and longitude. 
The schooner gave the information, adding that she navi- 
gated with a "blue pigeon" (a deep-sea lead), which of 



loo Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

course was very reassuring. We limped away and went on 
groping for Bermuda. Captain Coxetter had spent his life 
in the coasting trade between Charleston and the Florida 
ports, and even when he commanded for a few months the 
privateer Jeff Davis he had never been far away from the 
land. Such was the jealousy, however, of merchant sailors 
toward officers of the navy that, with one of the most cele- 
brated navigators in the world on board his ship, he had 
not as yet confided to anybody the fact that he was lost. 

On the sixth day, however, he told Commodore Maury 
that something terrible must have happened, as he had 
sailed his ship directly over the spot where the Bermuda 
Islands ought to be! Commodore Maury told him that he 
could do nothing for him before ten o'clock that night 
and advised him to slow down. At ten o'clock the great 
scientist and geographer went on deck and took observa- 
tions, at times lying flat on his back, sextant in hand, as 
he made measurements of the stars. When he had finished 
his calculations he gave the captain a course and told him 
that by steering it at a certain speed he would sight the light 
at Port Hamilton by two o'clock in the morning. No one 
turned into his bunk that night except the commodore 
and his little son; the rest of us were too anxious. Four 
bells struck and no light was in sight. Five minutes more 
passed and still not a sign of it; then grumbling commenced, 
and the passengers generally agreed with the man who ex- 
pressed the opinion that there was too much d d science 

on board and that we should all be on our way to Fort La- 
fayette in New York Harbor as soon as day broke. At ten 
minutes past two the masthead lookout sang out, "Light 
ho!" — and the learned old commodore's reputation as a 
navigator was saved. 

We ran around the islands and entered the picturesque 
harbor of St. George shortly after daylight. There were 
eight or ten other blockade-runners lying in the harbor, and 
their captains and mates lived at the same little white- 



Blockade-runners ioi 

washed hotel where the commodore and I stopped, which 
gave us an opportunity of seeing something of their man- 
ner of hfe when on shore. Their business was risky and 
the penalty of being caught was severe; they were a reck- 
less lot, and believed in eating, drinking, and being merry, 
for fear that they would die on the morrow and might miss 
something. Their orgies reminded me of the stories of the 
way the pirates in the West Indies spent their time when 
in their secret havens. The men who commanded many of 
these blockade-runners had probably never before in their 
lives received more than fifty to seventy-five dollars a 
month for their services; now they received ten thousand 
dollars in gold for a round trip, besides being allowed cargo 
space to take into the Confederacy, for their own account, 
goods which could be sold at a fabulous price, and also 
to bring out a limited number of bales of cotton worth a 
dollar a pound. In Bermuda these men seemed to suffer 
from a chronic thirst which could only be assuaged by 
champagne, and one of their amusements was to sit in the 
windows with bags of shillings and throw handfuls of the 
coins to a crowd of loafing negroes in the street to see them 
scramble. It is a singular fact that five years after the war 
not one of these men had a dollar to bless himself with. 
Another singular fact was that it was not always the speed- 
ier craft that were the most successful. The Kate (named 
after Mrs. William Trenholm) ran through the blockad- 
ing fleets sixty times and she could not steam faster than 
seven or eight knots. That was the record ; next to her came 
the Herald, or the Antonica as she was afterwards called. 

Commodore Maury was a deeply religious man. He had 
been lame for many years of his life, but no one ever heard 
him complain. He had been many years in the navy, but 
had scarcely ever put his foot on board of a ship without 
being seasick, and through it all he never allowed it to in- 
terfere with his duty. He was the only man I ever saw who 
could be seasick and amiable at the same time ; while suffer- 



102 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ing from nausea he could actually joke! I remember once 
entering his stateroom where he was seated with a Bible on 
his lap and a basin alongside of him. I told him that there 
was a ship in sight, and between paroxysms he said, "Some- 
times we see a ship, and sometimes ship a sea!" 

Not knowing of his world-wide celebrity, I was surprised 
to see the deference paid him by foreigners. We had no 
sooner settled ourselves at the hotel than the governor sent 
an aide to tell Lieutenant Maury that he would be pleased 
to receive him in his private capacity at the Government 
House. In Europe the commodore was only known as "the 
great Lieutenant Maury"; they entirely ignored any pro- 
motions which might have come to him. The commandant 
of Fort St. George also called on him, but took pains to ex- 
plain that it was the great scientist to whom he was pay- 
ing homage, and not the Confederate naval officer. As the 
commodore's aide I came in for a little of the reflected glory 
and had the pleasure of accompanying him to a dinner given 
in his honor on board of H.M.S. Immortality at Port Ham- 
ilton. She was a beautiful frigate and her officers were very 
kind to me. 

We remained in Bermuda for more than two weeks wait- 
ing for the Royal Mail Steamer from St. Thomas, on which 
we were to take passage for Halifax, Nova Scotia. Simul- 
taneously with her arrival the U.S. sloops-of-war San Ja- 
cinto and Mohican put in an appearance, but did not enter 
the harbor, cruising instead just outside the three-mile limit 
and in the track the British ship Delta would have to fol- 
low. Instantly the rumor spread that they were going to 
take Commodore Maury out of the ship as soon as she got 
outside, color being lent to this rumor by the fact that it 
was the San Jacinto which had only a year before taken the 
Confederate Commissioners, Mason and Slidell, out of the 
Royal Mail steamship Trent — and I must say that we felt 
quite uneasy. 

On the day of our departure a Mr. Bourne, a gentleman 



Halifax 103 

of whom I had never heard before, asked me to accompany 
him to his office and there counted out a hundred gold sov- 
ereigns, sealed them in a canvas bag, and asked me to sign 
a receipt for them. I assured him that there must be some 
mistake, but he insisted that I was the right party and that 
it was Mr. Trenholm's orders that he should give the money 
to me. Having had free meals and lodging on the blockade- 
runner, it was the first intimation I had that money would 
be necessary on so long a journey as the one I was about to 
undertake. 

We sailed out of the harbor, and the two American war- 
ships, as soon as we got outside, followed us. As we rounded 
the headland we saw the Immortality and the British 
sloop-of-war Desperate coming from Port Hamilton under 
a full head of steam and we expected every moment to wit- 
ness a naval fight; the American ships, however, seemed 
satisfied with having given us a scare, while the British fol- 
lowed us until we lost sight of them in the night. 

The governor of the colony of Nova Scotia, the general 
commanding the troops, and the admiral of the fleet, all 
treated "Lieutenant" Maury, as they insisted on calling 
him, with the most distinguished consideration, inviting him 
to dinners and receptions, etc., to which, as his aide, I had 
to accompany the great man. I particularly enjoyed the 
visit to Admiral Milne's flagship, the Nile, of seventy-two 
guns carried on three decks. The old wooden line-of-battle 
ship with her lofty spars was a splendid sight, and the like 
of her will never be seen again. What interested me most 
on board was the eighteen or twenty midshipmen in her 
complement, many of them younger and smaller than 
myself. They all made much of me and frankly envied me 
on account of my having been in battle and having run the 
blockade. 

The officers of the garrison were also very kind to me 
and told me a story about their commander, General 
O' Dougherty, which I have never forgotten. It was about 



104 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

a visit the chief of the O'Dougherty clan paid to the gen- 
eral. Not finding him at home, he left his card on which 
was simply engraved, "The O'Dougherty." The general 
returned the visit and wrote on a blank card, "The other 
O'Dougherty." 

After a few pleasant days spent in Halifax the Cunard 
steamer Arabia, plying between Boston and Liverpool, 
came into port and we took passage on her for Liverpool. 
The Americans on board resented our presence and of 
course had nothing to do with us, but a number of young 
officers of the Scots Fusilier Guards, who were returning 
home for the fox hunting, were very friendly. They had 
been hurriedly sent to Canada when war seemed imminent 
on account of the Trent affair. It was the first time a regi- 
ment of the Guards had been out of England since Water- 
loo, and they were very glad to be returning to their beloved 
"Merry" England. Among these young officers was the 
Earl of Dunmore, who, a few months before, wishing to see 
something of the war between the States, had obtained a 
leave of absence, passed through the Federal lines and 
gone to Richmond and thence to Charleston. He had trav- 
eled incog, under his family name of Murray. 

At Charleston he had been entertained by Mr. Tren- 
holm, and that gave us something to talk about. Dunmore 
was of a very venturesome disposition and instead of re- 
turning North on his pass, he decided to enjoy the sensa- 
tion of running the blockade. The boat he took passage on 
successfully eluded the Federal fleet off Charleston, but 
she was captured by an outside cruiser the very next day. 
The prisoners were of course searched, and around the 
body of " Mr. Murray," under his shirt, was found wrapped 
a Confederate flag — the flag of the C.S.S. Nashville, which 
had been presented to him by Captain Pegram. Despite 
his protestations that he was a Britisher traveling for pleas- 
ure, he was confined, as "Mr. Murray," in Fort Lafayette. 
The British Minister, Lord Lyons, soon heard of his pre- 



Her Majesty's Life Guardsmen 105 

dicament and requested the authorities in Washington to 
order his release, representing him as being the Earl of 
Dunmore, a lieutenant in Her Majesty's Life Guards. But 
the commandant of Fort Lafayette denied that he had any 
such prisoner and it required quite a correspondence to 
persuade him that a man by the name of Murray could 
at the same time be Lord Dunmore. 

Another of the Guardsmen was Captain Richard Cooper, 
who, at the relief of Lucknow, was the first man through the 
breach in the wall, on which occasion he received a fearful 
wound across his forehead from a scimitar in the hands of 
a Sepoy, which had left a vivid red scar. Several of the 
young Guardsmen had never yet flirted with death; they 
envied Captain Cooper and would gladly have been the 
possessors of his ugly scarlet blemish. 

The Arabia was a paddlewheel full-rigged ship. She 
appeared to us to be enormous in size, though, as a matter 
of fact, she was not one tenth as large as the modern Cu- 
nard liner. She did not even have a smoking-room, the lov- 
ers of the weed, when they wished to indulge in a whiff, 
having to seek the shelter of the lee side of the smokestack 
in all sorts of weather. A part of this pleasant voyage was 
very smooth, but when we struck the "roaring forties" 
the big ship tumbled about considerably and my commo- 
dore was as seasick and amiable as usual. 



CHAPTER XII 

Liverpool — London — Visit " Hill Morton," near Rugby — Ordered to the 
C.S.S. Alexandra — Snubbed — Ordered to Paris — Ordered to London — 
Birthday properly celebrated — Damn the Marquis of Westminster and lose 
my only friend — Meet several Mr. Grigsons. 

We arrived in Liverpool safely, and as soon as we could 
go ashore I accompanied Commodore Maury to No. lo 
Rumford Place, the offices of Messrs. Fraser, Trenholm & 
Co., the financial agents of the Confederacy. There had 
been no Mr. Fraser in the firm for many years prior to this 
time, and Mr. Prioleau, a junior partner, was in charge of 
the Liverpool branch. But it was not to see him that our 
visit was made. The commodore wanted to see Captain 
Bullock, C.S.N., who had recently fitted out the Alabama 
and who was busy superintending the building of other 
ships intended for Confederate cruisers. Captain Bullock 
was very kind to me, particularly after I had told him that 
I knew Mrs. Bullock when she was Miss Harriet Cross and 
lived in Baton Rouge. 

Before the commodore finished his interview a clerk came 
into Captain Bullock's office and asked if I was Mr. Morgan; 
he said Mr. Prioleau wanted to see me. Mr. Prioleau was 
very affable and gave me two letters of introduction, one to a 
fashionable London tailor and the other to the firm of Dent, 
the celebrated chronometer makers of that day. He said it 
was by Mr. Trenholm's orders and that the letters contained 
instructions as to what those people would give me. 

The commodore and I stopped overnight at the old 
Adelphi Hotel. I was by this time accustomed to commo- 
dores and I had met a live lord, but the head waiter, the 
most pompous and dignified human being I had ever en- 
countered, filled my little soul with awe whenever he con- 
descended to come near me. I was hungry, but felt diffident 



London 107 

about asking such an important personage to allow me to 
have anything to eat. I soon found, however, that he was 
not as dangerous as he looked and that on occasion he could 
slightly unbend, and as for knowing things, why he knew a 
great deal better than I did what I wanted for my dinner. 

When we reached London I found that a house in Sack- 
ville Street had already been engaged for the commodore, 
who kindly invited me to be his guest. As I have before said, 
Commodore Maury was much more appreciated in Europe 
than he was in his native land. All day long there would 
be in front of the house a string of carriages with coronets 
on their doors, while their owners were paying their respects 
to the great "Lieutenant" Maury. The Emperor of Russia 
sent him an offer of the rank of admiral, with a salary of 
thirty thousand dollars a year attached to the rank, if he 
would enter His Majesty's service, and to build him an 
observatory and a palatial residence in any part of Russia 
which he should select. Commodore Maury thanked him 
and told him that it would be impossible to accept his very 
flattering offer, as he, the commodore, had devoted his life 
and abilities to the cause of the South. 

Having nothing else to do, I hired a cab and presented 
first my letter of introduction to Dent, the watchmaker, 
where the polite manager placed before me a whole trayful 
of gold watches and another of watch chains, and begged 
me to take my choice. I was a little dazed, but managed to 
carry off with me a beautiful timepiece. Next I went to the 
tailor, who measured me in every conceivable way and then 
assured me, with many bows, that he would expedite my 
order and keep me waiting as short a time as possible. 
When that order arrived in Sackville Street I was surprised, 
indeed. At most I had expected a new sack coat, but here 
was a great box containing a full-dress suit, a morning or 
business suit, an afternoon frock coat, a smoking- jacket — • 
and Heaven only knows what else. 

I had not been in London more than a week when my 



io8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

friends the Guardsmen put in an appearance and invited 
me to visit their various homes. The commodore selected 
the invitation of Captain Cooper as the first one for me to 
accept, as he was the oldest officer, and I went to his place 
called "Hill Morton," near Rugby. I found gathered there 
Lord Dunmore, Lieutenant the Honorable Charles White, 
and Lieutenant Ram, of Ramsgate, who had been my fel- 
low passengers on the Arabia. That visit is among the most 
pleasant recollections of my long life. Captain Cooper took 
me to see Rugby School where I insisted on seeing the exact 
spot on which "Tom Brown" had fought his memorable 
fight. "Tom Brown" was a real personage to me in those 
days, and although the request might have puzzled the 
Head Master, it was easy for those young Guardsmen to 
take me to the place and make me thrill with their vivid 
description of the contest. I afterwards found out that they 
were all Eton boys and did not know any more about 
Rugby than I did. 

On the days when we did not hunt I was taken on a round 
of calls on the county families. I never before knew that 
there were so many lords and ladies in the world, and to my 
great satisfaction all the aristocrats I met seemed to sym- 
pathize with the South in her fight for the right of secession. 
In the smoking-rooms after dinner I was made to recount 
the stories of the battles I had been in, and they flattered 
me so that I began almost to believe that I was something 
of a hero. 

Like all pleasant things my visits to my Guardsmen 
friends came to an end and I returned to London, where I 
received orders to proceed to Liverpool and report to 
Lieutenant J. R. Hamilton, C.S.N., for duty on the Alex- 
andra. This was only a nom de guerre given her in the hope 
of hoodwinking the British Government as to the real pur- 
poses for which she was being built ; but no matter how blind 
the British might be, Mr. Charles Francis Adams, the 
American Minister, to use a vulgar expression, was "on to 



Liverpool 109 

her," and knew as well as we did what she was intended for. 
Only her keel and ribs were in place when I first saw her 
and I do not think the builders were in any hurry to com- 
plete her, but rather devoted their energies to the construc- 
tion of an iron blockade-runner called the Phantom which 
was being built in the same yard. 

It was now the middle of winter. The days were shorter 
than I ever believed days could be — it was not light before 
ten in the morning, and dark again by half-past two in the 
afternoon with the exception of foggy days, and then there 
was no daylight at all. How I repented ever having abused 
that bright, burning Louisiana sun. What would I not have 
given for a few hours of its presence. 

My life in Liverpool that winter was a very lonely one, 
as I was the only Confederate midshipman, at the time, in 
Europe. I only knew two families in the city — that of 
Captain Huger's sister, Mrs. Calder, who was very kind to 
me on account of my having served in the McRae under her 
heroic brother, and the family of Mr. Blacklock, a retired 
merchant of Charleston, South Carolina. Captain Bullock 
and Lieutenant Hamilton lived out of town, as did Mr. 
Prioleau who resided in a baronial mansion called " Allerton 
Hall," some miles out. Having naturally, midshipman-like, 
squandered all the money Mr. Trenholm had so kindly in- 
structed his agent in Bermuda to give me, I was now again 
dependent on my pay of forty dollars a month and was 
compelled, for reasons of economy, to live in a little dingy 
house in a back street, called Upper Newington, a couple 
of blocks away from the Adelphi Hotel.. Unaccustomed as 
I was to cold weather, the constant storms and the snow 
added to the cheerlessness of the situation. The only break 
in the monotony of my existence came on the days I at- 
tended a nautical school, where I was taught navigation, 
and my fencing and boxing classes. I thought there was 
going to be a rift in the clouds when Mr. Prioleau invited 
me to Allerton Hall for Christmas, but there was a fly in 



no Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

the ointment despite the magnificence of the place with its 
hothouses supplying abundance of flowers and tropical 
fruits in December. I don't know whether to lay the blame 
of my trouble on my age or on a young lady, but the facts 
were these: A young girl, a stepdaughter of a Confederate 
general who commanded for some time at Charleston, was 
at school in England and was spending the holidays with 
the Prioleaus. There was a large number of guests at din- 
ner on Christmas Day, and Mrs. Prioleau designated me 
to escort the young lady into the banquet hall. Now the 
young lady was just my own age, sixteen, when girls 
most hate boys and look down upon them with supreme 
contempt, and this young lady thought it beneath her 
dignity to be seated by a boy — and she took no particular 
pains to hide her displeasure. On my side I naturally felt 
hurt, for was I not an officer of the navy and a veteran? 
At all events, I did not enjoy my dinner, — and I ought to 
have been happy, for Mr. Prioleau had handed me that 
morning fifty pounds sterling, saying it was a present from 
my kind friend Mr. Trenholmwho wished me a merry 
Christmas. The first use I made of my wealth was to ask 
and obtain permission to visit Paris, but even Paris, despite 
its beauty and objects of interest, is a dull place for a boy of 
sixteen with no acquaintances and not knowing what to do 
with himself, so I returned to my dismal life in Liverpool. 

In February, 1863, I received an order detaching me from 
the uncompleted Alexandra, and ordering me to proceed to 
Paris and await orders. After a couple of weeks' sojourn in 
what was to other people the gayest city in the world, I 
received an order to go to London and await orders at the 
Westminster Palace Hotel. 

I arrived in London on the morning of the loth of March. 
It was my birthday, and I must say this for the Britishers, 
it was the only occasion in my life that I ever saw the day 
properly celebrated. There were royal processions in the 
streets during the day, and the city was gay with bunting, 



Lose my only Friend hi 

while at night the city was illuminated. Such crowds as 
there were in the streets I could never have imagined 
before. It was said that despite the fact that the throng was 
most amiable, forty people were crushed to death by its 
mere pressure in the narrow streets. I should add incident- 
ally that the Prince of Wales, afterwards His Majesty King 
Edward the Seventh, and the Princess Alexandra of Den- 
mark were married that day. 

Never before had I been so lonely as I was in that great 
city. The old, dignified, and taciturn waiter who served my 
meals was the only human being who took any notice of me. 
He, after a time, appeared to be sorry for me and gave me 
a table by a window looking out on the street; occasionally 
he would vouchsafe me a word, for which I was truly 
grateful ; but I was ignorant of the fact that he was a friend 
of the Marquis of Westminster, and I made a bad break 
which cost me his friendship. The trouble occurred in this 
way. I came to breakfast one morning feeling cross and 
unhappy. I was gazing out of the window when a pedes- 
trian, whose clothes did not look any too fresh, passed by on 
the sidewalk. My friend the waiter called my attention to 
the man and in an awed whisper said, "The Marquis of 
Westminster!" I sulkily remarked, "Oh, damn the Marquis 
of Westminster!" The waiter flushed and angrily retorted, 
"But ye can't, ye know; he owns all this part of Lunnon!" 
After that our relations were too strained to allow of any 
further social intercourse. But as I was under orders not to 
make any promiscuous acquaintances, probably it was just 
as well that he snubbed me when I attempted to resume 
friendly chats with him. We Confederates in Europe were 
very secretive and mysterious. The higher officers traveled 
incog., and all that sort of thing. It was interesting to me in 
after years to read Mr. Charles Francis Adams's letters to 
his Government, from which I learned that he not only 
knew our names, but probably had a diagram of every 
plank and bolt that was being put into our ships. 



112 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

On the 4th of April, 1863, I received an order to go to a 
house in Little St. James's Street and inquire for a "Mr. 
Grigson," who would give me further instructions. When I 
found the house the door was opened by a pleasant-faced, 
middle-aged woman who seemed much amused when I 
asked for "Mr. Grigson." She replied, laughing, "You will 
find them in there," pointing to a door. From her language 
I inferred that the mysterious Mr. Grigson was not so sin- 
gular a man after all; evidently there must be more than 
one of him. Entering the room indicated I found myself in 
the presence of Lieutenants Chapman and Evans, who had 
been on the Sumter when she was fitted out in New Orleans 
two years previously, and Mr. Ingraham, a son of the com- 
modore, who had been a first classman when I was at An- 
napolis. These gentlemen were also laughing and told me 
that I had given them a scare, as they were afraid I might 
be a detective. I asked which one of them might be Mr. 
Grigson, as I had business of importance to transact with 
that gentleman? Mr. Chapman answered that they were 
all Grigsons, but he thought he was a good enough Grigson 
for my purposes. He handed me an order to report to Com- 
mander William L. Maury, and when I asked where I 
should find that officer, he told me that if I would stay close 
to him. Chapman, I would surely meet the gentleman very 
shortly. I was then told to return to the hotel, get my be- 
longings, and return to Little St. James's Street. 



CHAPTER XIII 

White Haven — The active tug Alar — Meet the Japan, which turns out to 
he the Confederate cruiser Georgia — Ushant Island — Break neutrality laws, 
and away to sea — Hoist Confederate flag, but don't use it much — Capture 
our first prize, the clipper ship Dictator — Treatment of prisoners — Cape 
Verde Islands — Narrow escape from U.S.S. Mohican — Crew of Dictator ship 
with us — Chasing ships. 

Returning to Little St. James's Street I found that 
Passed Midshipman Walker had joined the party, and 
about half-past nine that evening we all proceeded to a 
railway station where we took a train for White Haven, a 
little seaport about an hour's ride from London. There 
we went to a small inn, where we met Commander Maury, 
Dr. Wheeden, and Paymaster Curtis, and were soon joined 
by others — all strangers to me. We waited at the inn for 
about a couple of hours ; there was little, if any, conversa- 
tion, as we were all too anxious and were all thinking about 
the same thing. In those two hours it was to be decided 
whether our expedition was to be a success or a failure. If 
Mr. Adams, the American Minister, was going to get in his 
fine work and balk us, now was his last opportunity. 

A little after midnight, two by two, we sauntered down 
to the quay, where we found at least a hundred people 
gathered near a little sea-going tug called the Alar. It was 
blowing a gale and a heavy sea was rolling in, which caused 
the little boat to bump herself viciously against the stone 
dock, so that but for her ample fenders she must have 
stove her side in. We hurried on board and Mr. Chapman, 
taking up a position by the pilot house, said to the crowd 
on the dock, "Now, men, you know what we want of you; 
all who want to go with us jump aboard!" About sixty 
responded to the invitation. The lines were cast off and the 
Alar shot out of the slip as a man on shore proposed three 



114 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

cheers for the Alabama, which were lustily responded to 
by our fellow passengers. 

As we cleared the end of the docks the little Alar poked 
her nose into a huge sea and tried to stand erect on her 
stern, but not being able to accomplish that feat, she fell 
down into the trough and the next wave passed over her, 
drenching to the skin every man aboard. She next tried to 
hold her stern in the air while she stood on her nose, and 
when the foaming sea reached her pilot house she rolled 
over on her side as though she was tired and wanted to 
take a nap ; but she was disturbed by another comber pick- 
ing her up and slamming her down on the other side with 
such force as to make every rib in her tiny body quiver. 
There were no secrets in that contracted space. The men 
aboard were supposed to be the crew of our cruiser, when 
we found her, and the cargo of the tug consisted of our 
guns, shipped as hardware in boxes, and our ammunition. 
We were all huddled up together, and plainly heard the 
engineer tell the captain that one more sea like the last one 
which came aboard would put out the fires. For more than 
three days and nights, cold and wet, with no place to sleep 
and little to eat, we stumbled and tumbled down the Eng- 
lish Channel. When the gale abated at last, we saw on the 
horizon a trim-looking little brig-rigged steamer idly rolling 
on the swell of the sea, apparently waiting for something, 
and we steered for her. She proved to be the British (?) 
steamer Japan; her papers said that she was bound from 
Glasgow to Nagasaki, with an assorted cargo, but we 
doubted their accuracy. 

Commodore Matthew F. Maury, who had bought and 
fitted out this ship, just completed at Dunbarton on the 
Clyde, had outwitted the British Government, but not 
Mr, Adams, who had warned the authorities of her charac- 
ter. How the British Government could have been held 
responsible for her escape without stopping their whole 
commerce is beyond my understanding. The vessel had not 




CAPTAIN W. I,. MAURY 

Commanding^ the Georgia 



Meet the Japan 115 

the slightest resemblance to a man-of-war; she nominally 
belonged to a private party, and there was not an ounce 
of contraband in her cargo, which consisted of provisions, 
coal, and empty boxes. Her captain himself did not know 
for what purpose she was intended. His orders were to 
proceed to a certain latitude and longitude near the island 
of Ushant on the French coast, where a tug would meet 
him and give him further instructions from his owner. 

When we had approached close enough to the Japan to 
hail, Captain Maury asked her captain to send a boat, as 
he had a communication for him. Captain Maury then 
went aboard the brig and what passed between him and 
her skipper of course I had no means of knowing, but soon 
the Japan passed us a hawser, as there was some slight 
trouble with the Alar's engines which needed immediate 
attention. We were taken in tow, and no sooner did the 
Japan start ahead than accident number one occurred. 
The hawser became entangled in the Japan's screw, jam- 
ming it. It took several hours to cut it loose, and when this 
was finally accomplished, we proceeded to Ushant, going 
around it in search of smooth waters so that we could 
transfer our guns from the tug to the cruiser that was to be. 
We dropped anchor after dark in a little cove and com- 
menced operations, despite the angry protests of the French 
coastguards from the shore. Judging from their language 
they must have been furious as well as helpless. 

The men we had brought from White Haven worked 
most energetically, and by midnight we had our two twenty- 
four-pounders and the two little ten-pounder Whitworth 
guns on board, as well as the ammunition and the trav- 
erses; but unfortunately the sea was rising all the time 
and the little tug alongside was pitching and rolling so 
much that it was too dangerous to attempt to get the big- 
gest gun, a thirty-two-pounder Blakeley rifle, out of her. 
So we got under way again and proceeded to the mainland, 
not many miles from Brest, a great naval station where we 



ii6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

knew a French fleet was assembled. Working like beavers 
and protected by a headland there, we finally succeeded in 
shifting the Blakeley gun. We then stood out to sea, where, 
after we had got safely beyond the three-mile limit, we 
stopped. Captain Maury called all hands to the mast and 
read his orders, hoisted the Confederate flag and his pen- 
nant, and declared the Confederate States cruiser Georgia 
to be in commission. 

His remarks were received with three lusty cheers. He 
then asked the men who were going with us to step for- 
ward and enlist for three years or the war, but alas, a sea- 
lawyer had been at work, and not a man came forward. 
The spokesman demanded higher wages on account of the 
dangers of the service, and when told that the Georgia was 
a man-of-war and the pay was fixed by law, they, to a 
man, went over the side and boarded the tug. To our sur- 
prise nine men of the crew of the late merchantman Japan 
now stepped forward and said they would like to go with 
us, and of course they were accepted at once. With these 
men as a nucleus for a crew, we cast off the Alar's line and 
never saw or heard of her or the men on board of her again, 
and never wanted to. We afterwards learned that our pres- 
ence at Ushant and on the coast of France had been sig- 
naled to Brest and that a fast frigate had been sent in all 
haste to capture us for our breach of French neutrality; 
but we never saw her. 

It was the 9th of April, 1863, when this little friendless 
ship of only about five hundred and fifty tons started on 
her long and hazardous cruise. She was as absolutely un- 
fitted for the work as any vessel could conceivably be : she 
lay very low in the water and was very long for her beam; 
her engines were gear engines, that is, a large wheel fitted 
with lignum-vitse cogs turned the iron cogs on the shaft, 
and frequently the wooden cogs would break. When they 
did It was worse than if a shrapnel shell had burst In the 
engine room, as they flew in every direction, endangering 



Away to Sea 117 

the lives of every one within reach. Her sail power was 
insufficient, and, owing to her length, it was impossible to 
put her about under canvas. She was slow under either 
sail or steam, or both together. Such was the little craft in 
which we got slowly under way, bound we knew not where. 
Ushant Island bearing east southeast, distant four and a 
half miles. 

The morning of the loth of April dawned fair, with light 
breezes and a comparatively smooth sea, and officers and 
men set to work fastening to the deck iron traverses for 
our pivot gun. Then came a most difficult job, short- 
handed as we were, — that of mounting the guns on their 
carriages; and to add to our troubles the sea commenced 
to rise. With all the most intricate and ingenious tackles 
our seamanlike first lieutenant could devise, it was an awful 
strain upon us, as the heavy gun swung back and forth 
with the roll of the ship. However, by almost superhu- 
man exertions we succeeded in getting the guns into their 
places on the carriages ; then we felt very man-of-warrish 
indeed. 

Day after day, with a pleasant breeze, we steered a course 
somewhat west of souths meeting but few ships, and those 
we saw displayed neutral colors when we showed them the 
British or American ensign. During the whole cruise we 
saw our Confederate flag only when we were in the act of 
making a capture or when we were in port. Usually we 
showed strange sails the Stars and Stripes. On April 25, 
there being several sail in sight, we got up steam and made 
chase after them. The merchantmen we approached one 
after the other showed us neutral colors until we were be- 
coming disheartened, when suddenly, about 4 p.m., we 
descried on the horizon a big full-rigged ship with long 
skysail poles, — the sure sign of the Yankee. She appeared 
unwilling to take any chances with us and cracked on more 
sail while we pursued her under steam. A little after five 
o'clock, we hauled down the British colors, hoisted the 



ii8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Confederate flag, and sent a shot bounding over the water 
just ahead of her, which, in the language of the sea, was an 
order to heave to. In less time than it takes to tell, the main 
yard of the doomed ship swung around and her sails on the 
main and mizzen masts were thrown aback as the Ameri- 
can flag was broken out and fluttered from her peak. We 
immediately lowered a boat and our second lieutenant, Mr. 
Evans, accompanied by myself, rowed over to the prize 
which proved to be the splendid ship Dictator of between 
three and four thousand tons, from New York bound to 
Hongkong with a cargo of coal. She carried no passengers. 

After looking over the ship's papers, we made her crew 
lower their own boats and forced the captain, his three 
mates, and the crew of twenty-seven men to get into them 
with their personal belongings. We then ordered them to 
pull for the Georgia, which they did with no enthusiasm 
whatever. On arriving alongside the cruiser they were al- 
lowed to come over the side one at a time, and were then 
hurried below and placed in irons. It was not considered 
advisable to give them time enough to see how weak our 
force was. The captain was invited by our commander to 
share the cabin with him, and the first mate was confined 
in my room, but neither of them had any restraint put on 
him except that neither was allowed to go forward of the 
mainmast, or to hold any communication with the men. 
On board the Dictator we found a fine assortment of pro- 
visions and sent several boat loads to our own ship. This 
was necessary as we had now to feed the prize's crew as 
well as our own. 

The Georgia lay near the Dictator all night, and in the 
morning we attempted to replenish our coal bunkers from 
her, but the rising sea made this impossible; and after 
coming very near swamping our small boats, we gave it 
up. It seemed hard that we should have to go without the 
fuel so precious to us while several thousand tons of the 
very best were within a few cables* lengths of our vessel. 



Our First Prize 119 

However, it might as well have been in the mines of Penn- 
sylvania whence it came for all the good it was to us. 

The Georgia made signal to burn the prize, and Lieu- 
tenant Evans asked me if I would like to try my hand at 
setting her on fire. There were a large number of broken 
provision boxes lying about the deck which I gathered 
and, placing them against her rail, I lighted a match and 
applied it. The kindling wood burned beautifully, but 
when its flames expired there was not a sign of fire on the 
side of the ship. I was surprised and puzzled, and turned 
to seek an explanation from my superior officer, who was 
standing near by fairly convulsed with laughter. He told 
me not to mind ; he would show me how it was done. (He 
had had previous experience in the gentle art when lieu- 
tenant with Captain Semmes on the Sumter.) I followed 
him into the cabin where he pulled out several drawers 
from under the captain's berth, and, filling them with old 
newspapers, he applied a match. The effect was almost in- 
stantaneous. Flames leaped up and caught the chintz cur- 
tains of the berth and the bedclothes, at the same time 
setting fire to the light woodwork. The sight fascinated 
me and I stood watching it as though I was dazed, when 
suddenly I heard the lieutenant's voice call excitedly: " Run, 
youngster, run, or we will be cut off from the door!" We 
rushed out, followed by a dense smoke and leaping flames, 
reaching the gangway just ahead of them, and hastily went 
over the side and down the ladder into our boat which was 
waiting for us. By the time we reached the Georgia, the 
prize was one seething mass of flames from her hold to 
her trucks. It was a strange and weird sight to see the 
flames leaping up her tarred rigging, while dense volumes 
of smoke, lighted up by fire from the mass of coal below, 
rolled up through her hatches. 

The Dictator, exclusive of her cargo, was valued at 
eighty-six thousand dollars. By decree of the Confederate 
Government we were to receive one half of the value of 



120 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

every ship destroyed, and the full amount of the bonds 
given by vessels carrying neutral cargo. Under the law 
regulating the distribution of prize money the total amount 
was divided into twentieths of which the commanding offi- 
cer got two and the steerage officers got the same, the rest 
being shared by the wardroom officers and the crew. I 
being the only midshipman, or steerage officer, on board of 
the Georgia for most of the cruise, the amount of prize 
money (still due me) which I should have received would 
have almost equaled the share of the captain. 

When we parted company with the burning Dictator 
we had hardly got well under way when the always exciting 
"Sail ho!" was heard coming from the masthead look- 
out followed by the officer of the deck's query, "Where 
away?" and the answer, "Two points off the port bow, 
sir!" Away we dashed in chase, only to be disappointed 
again and again when the chase showed neutral colors. If 
we had any cause to suspect that they were not what their 
colors represented them to be we boarded them and ex- 
amined their papers. Strange sail were plentiful, but no 
American craft among them. One day we chased a paddle- 
wheel bark-rigged steamer; it seemed rather strange that 
we should overhaul her so rapidly, but when we got near 
to her we discovered that her engines were disconnected 
and that her paddles were being turned by her momentum 
through the water. We had the British flag proudly fly- 
ing at our peak, and suddenly we made another discov- 
ery; she was a man-of-war! Suddenly she broke out her 
ensign and there we saw the British Union Jack! The 
way that British flag came down from our peak and was 
replaced by the Confederate flag looked like legerdemain. 
The Englishman then dipped his colors to us — a cour- 
tesy that we very much appreciated and which we re- 
turned with great satisfaction, as it was the first salute of 
any kind we had received. 

On the 29th of April, at about three bells in the forenoon 



Narrow Escape from U.S.S. Mohican 121 

watch, we found ourselves near the island of San Antonio, 
one of the Cape Verdes. With all sail set we bowled along 
before a stiff northeast trade wind which soon brought us 
in between San Antonio and the island of St. Vincent, where 
the high land on either beam acted as a funnel for the trade 
wind which now increased to a gale. We shot by a promon- 
tory and there before our eyes we saw the town and har- 
bor of Porto Grande, and there also we saw lying peacefully 
at her anchor a sloop-of-war, with the Stars and Stripes 
fluttering from her peak! Instantly everybody on our ship 
was in a state of excitement and commotion. The officer 
of the deck gave the order "Hard-a-port!" quickly fol- 
lowed in rapid succession through his speaking-trumpet by 
"Main clew garnets and buntlines!" — "Haul taut!" — 
"Up courses!" — "T'gallant and topsail halyards!" — 
"Let go!" — "Haul down!" — "Clew up!" — "All hands 
furl sail!" — and officers and men rushed aloft and, work- 
ing like Trojans, soon had her under bare poles. Four bells 
were rung for full speed ahead, and the little ship gallantly 
breasted the high sea in the face of the half-gale of wind; 
but neither patent log 'nor the old-fashioned chip-and-line 
could be persuaded to show more than four knots speed. 

Captain Maury was evidently very anxious and sent for 
the English chief engineer and asked him if that was the 
best he could do. The chief said he thought it was. Cap- 
tain Maury then told him that if the American man-of-war 
was the Mohican, as he thought she was, he had served on 
board of her and she could make seven knots an hour easily 
against that sea and wind — and significantly added, "You 
know that being caught means hanging with us according 
to Mr. Lincoln's proclamation!" 

The chief disappeared below and in a few minutes our 
improvement in speed was remarkable. We were gratified 
as well as surprised when we found that we were not being 
pursued. We afterwards learned that the sloop-of-war, 
not expecting a visit from us at such an unconventional 



122 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

hour, had let her steam go down and could not get under 
way until she got it up again. We ran around the island 
and, finding a cove, anchored near the shore, sending a 
lieutenant ashore to climb the promontory, from which 
lofty point of vantage, with the aid of his marine glasses, 
he plainly saw our would-be captor steaming out to sea in 
the opposite direction from our snug hiding-place. If she 
had sighted us it is easy to imagine what would have hap- 
pened, as she carried ten guns — all of which were much 
heavier than our biggest piece of ordnance — and the little 
Georgia had more than twice as many prisoners on board 
of her as she had crew. In fact, our crew would not have 
been sufficient in numbers to handle and serve our forward 
pivot gun. 

When night came we weighed anchor and put to sea and 
the next morning were busily engaged chasing and exam- 
ining ships. Sometimes we would " bring to " an American, 
then be disappointed because he had changed his flag, and 
his papers as a neutral would be all correct. Most neutral 
vessels feared us, and as soon as they suspected our character 
would attempt to escape, thus causing us much unnecessary 
burning of coal. Few of them appeared to be friendly to us, 
and when asked for news seemed delighted when they had 
the courage to tell us some rigmarole about great disasters 
to the Confederate armies which they invented for the oc- 
casion. Some few gave us newspapers and kindly told us 
the truth as to what had happened before they left port in 
the world from which we were excluded. 

It was a fortunate thing for us that we had not been able 
to land our prisoners in the Cape Verde islands, as we had 
intended to do. We had treated these unfortunates kindly; 
they received the same rations our own men did, and one 
half of them were released from their irons and allowed to 
roam around the deck in the daytime. They must have be- 
come attached to us, for first one man and then another 
asked to be permitted to talk to our first lieutenant, and 



/ 
Crew of Dictator ship with us 123 

when this was granted, would request to be allowed to 
ship aboard. To our surprise the second and third mates 
and the twenty-seven seamen joined us and afterwards 
proved to be among the very best men we had. 

The captain of the Dictator had shared Captain Maury's 
cabin and seemed a very nice man, but the first mate was 
of a very different type. He was quartered in my state- 
room, while I had to sleep in a hammock slung out in the 
steerage. He took his meals with me and was allowed to 
take his exercise on the poop deck. Of course neither he 
nor the captain was subjected to the inconvenience of hav- 
ing irons put on them ; but Mr. Snow, the first mate, repaid 
our consideration by writing the story of his capture and 
"inhuman" treatment by the "pirates" on board the 
Georgia. He placed this romance in a bottle which he 
corked tightly and sealed with sealing-wax which he bor- 
rowed from me ; then he threw it out of the air-port in hopes 
that it would drift ashore. It did. Years after the war was 
over it was picked up on the coast of Norway, and its lying 
contents were published to the world. 



CHAPTER XIV 

The Doldrums — Water-spouts — Bahia — Meet the Alabama — Changing 
of the Confederate flag — Corsairos — Brazilian ball — Midshipman Anderson 
makes a pillow out of Captain Semmes — U.S.S. Niagara and Mohican on our 
trail — "Does he want his pretty paint spoiled?" — Refused permission to 
depart after 4 p.m. — Brazilian battery fires one shot as we pass out. 

Chasing ships without making any captures was getting 
to be a little monotonous. Some of the vessels we halted 
had captains who were cross and ugly about being detained 
while we examined their papers, while others seemed to 
enjoy the adventure of being held up by a "pirate" and 
showed our boarding officers every hospitality in the way 
of wines, liquors, and cigars. We passed close to a man-of- 
war and showed her our true colors, which attention she 
reciprocated by running up the British flag and dipping 
it to us. Every time this occurred we would congratulate 
ourselves, insisting that the mere courtesy constituted a 
recognition of the Confederate States. 

Exactly where we were, the captain and the navigator 
alone knew. The old sailors told me that we were in the 
"doldrums" — as they call that portion of the Atlantic 
Ocean which lies in the equatorial belt extending from 
about ten degrees north of the Equator to the same dis- 
tance south of it: this they knew by the baffling winds, 
squalls from every point of the compass, and "Irishmen's 
hurricanes," as they call dead calms. Another unfailing 
sign to them was the numerous great waterspouts whirling 
around in every direction. To see one of these spouts in 
process of formation is indeed a wonderful sight — first 
the whirlwind on the surface of the sea and the eddying 
of a cloud above, then the formation of the column of water 
twisting and swaying like the body of some huge serpent 
as it rises out of the sea, the loud, roaring sound and the 
great commotion of the water around it until it has as- 



Bahia 125 

cended to a great height, and then the most extraordinary 
part of all, when the cloud above sends down a similar col- 
umn of whirling water and the two, with unerring accuracy, 
join and complete the awe-inspiring funnel. On one occa- 
sion one of these spouts was making so straight for us that 
we fired one of the guns to burst it, for had it come aboard 
the little Georgia it would have instantly swamped her. 

One night — in the morning watch, just before daylight 
— an old sailor said to me, "We are near land, sir." I 
asked him how he knew and he told me to feel how wet the 
deck was with dew; and although the sea was smooth, the 
stars shining brightly, and the ship becalmed, I found 
the deck as wet as though water had been poured over 
it. The old "shellback" then informed me that dew never 
extended more than thirty miles from land. This was news 
to me, but I found that the Jack Tar was right. 

In the middle of the night of May 13-14, we entered 
the great Bay of Todos os Santos, or All Saints' Bay, and 
dropped anchor in front of the Brazilian city of Bahia, a 
picturesque place situated on a high bluff overlooking the 
bay. There were many vessels anchored near us, and the 
practiced eyes of our senior lieutenants pronounced two of 
them to be men-of-war; but of course their nationality 
could not be made out in the darkness. We had good rea- 
son, had we known, for feeling anxious about them, for it 
was in this same harbor, a few months after our visit, that 
the Confederate cruiser Florida was lying, as her comman- 
der thought, in peaceful security. So much at ease was he 
that he had given half his crew liberty, which they were 
enjoying on shore when the U.S.S. Wachusett, disregard- 
ing Brazilian neutrality, in the middle of the night, rammed, 
boarded, and captured her, carrying her to Hampton 
Roads where she was sunk to avoid having to give her up 
on the demand of Brazil that she be returned to Bahia. 

There was little sleep on the Georgia the night of our 
arrival. Day broke and we found ourselves very near the 



126 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

two men-of-war. What was their nationality? It seemed 
an age before the hour for colors arrived, but when it did, 
to our great delight, the most rakish-looking of the two 
warships broke out the Stars and Bars! "It is the Ala- 
bama!" we gasped, and commenced to dance with delight. 
The officers hugged one another, each embracing a man 
of his own rank, except the captain and myself. Like the 
commander, I was the only one of my rank aboard, so I 
hugged myself. 

The Confederate Government had changed its flag since 
we had left home, and the Stars and Bars had given way to 
the white field with a St. Andrew's cross which we fondly 
believed represented the Southern Cross. The Alabama had 
not yet heard of the change, and we furnished the anoma- 
lous and embarrassing spectacle of two warships belonging 
to the same Government and flying flags which bore no 
resemblance to each other! Fortunately the new flag was 
not a difficult one to make, and the Alabama's sailors soon 
had the new colors proudly fluttering from her peak. 

Captain Semmes, of the Alabama, being the ranking offi- 
cer, our captain quickly got into his gig and went on board 
the famous ship to pay his respects. The other man-of-war 
proved to be a Portuguese sloop, very small, and carrying 
sixteen little popguns. 

As soon as we arrived in neutral waters our prisoners, 
the captain and the first mate of the Dictator, were told 
that they were free and were sent ashore in the first boat. 
The American Consul demanded that the rest of the crew 
of the burnt ship should be delivered up to him, and, rather 
than have trouble with the Brazilian Government we told 
the men they could go ashore. This they did, and some of 
the rascals went to the American Consul and told him a 
tale of woe and got everything possible out of him. With 
the prisoners landed from the Alabama they had a royal 
time ashore for several days; but, strange to say, when we 
got to sea there they all were on our decks! They had 




MIDSHIPMAN MORGAN 

While ;itt;iched to the Cruiser Georgia, 1S63 



Meet the Alabama 127 

smuggled themselves aboard the Georgia with the conni- 
vance of our crew and had remained hidden until we were 
outside of Brazilian jurisdiction. 

The Alabama had recently fought and sunk the U.S.S. 
Hatteras off Galveston, and as soon as possible I went on 
board the pride of the Confederate Navy to see the mid- 
shipmen. There were four of them — Irving Bulloch, an 
uncle of Theodore Roosevelt; Eugene Mafhtt, son of that 
captain of the Florida, who, while ill with the yellow fever, 
ran her through the blockading fleet off Mobile in broad 
daylight — taking their broadsides as he passed and finally 
anchoring his much-cut-up ship under the protecting guns 
of Fort Morgan. There was also William St. Clair, and my 
dear friend Edward M. Anderson, who is still living (191 6). 
The holes in the Alabama's side and the scars on her deck 
where the shot from the Hatteras had ripped them were 
still fresh, and I heard the story of the battle at first hand. 
Of course the midshipmen's account of the fight was the 
one which interested me most. When one has heard their 
story, one wonders why Captain Homer Blake, of the Hat- 
teras, never received more credit for his gallant fight. He 
fought his ship until the muzzles of his guns were almost 
on a level with the sea and she was about to disappear be- 
neath the waves forever. 

Captain Semmes was a fine Spanish scholar, but did not 
speak Portuguese, the national language of Brazil. As I 
could speak French fluently he borrowed me from Captain 
Maury to carry communications to the governor of Bahia, 
who, like most educated South Americans, spoke French 
perfectly. The American Consul protested against our be- 
ing allowed to replenish our coal bunkers from the British 
bark Castor which lay near us. To-day (191 6) the meeting 
of colliers and warships at appointed rendezvous is sup- 
posed to be an invention of the Germans; but colliers fol- 
lowed, or were supposed to be where the Alabama and 
Georgia would need them. I am sorry to say that they were 



128 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

rarely on time, but as they were sailing vessels there was 
some excuse for them. The Castor was under contract to 
deliver us the coal and the coal was our property, paid for 
by the Confederate agent in England; on the protest of 
the United States Consul, however, the governor refused 
to allow us to coal from her. We then made a "sale" of 
part of the cargo to a native merchant, had it put ashore, 
and then "bought" it from him. Of course the native was 
well paid for his trouble, and the probability is that the 
officials got their rake-off from the transaction. 

Brazil was a slave-owning country at that time, but the 
natives seemed to fear and avoid us, and as we would pass 
through the streets we could hear the negro nurses threaten 
crying children that they would be carried off by the "cor- 
sairos" if they were not good. An English engineer who 
was building a railroad into the interior was the only per- 
son in Bahia who showed us any attention or hospitality. 
He invited the officers of the Alabama and Georgia to go 
on an excursion on his unfinished railroad. The country 
through which it passed was rich and beautiful, and at the 
end of the finished line our officers were regaled with all 
sorts of good things to eat and drink. On returning to 
Bahia he invited us to a dance to be given at his residence 
that night, and naturally as many of the officers as could 
be spared from duty accepted. The ball was quite a swell 
affair; all the British colony were there, of course, and 
many Brazilian ladies; they came from curiosity, but 
nothing could induce them to risk dancing with the " cor- 
sairos." This, of course, made us youngsters imagine that 
we looked rather formidable. 

Shortly after midnight we said good-night to our host 
and hostess and such of the guests as were not afraid to 
speak to us, and proceeded to the quay where Captain 
Semmes's gig was waiting for him. The cutters from the 
Alabama and Georgia, which were to take the officers to 
their respective ships, had not yet come for us, and we 



Midshipman Anderson's Pillow 129 

thought we saw before us a long wait; but Captain Semmes 
very kindly invited us to crowd into his gig, saying that 
after she put him aboard of the Alabama she would take 
those of us belonging to the Georgia to our ship. On our 
way to the Alabama, Midshipman Anderson, the captain's 
personal aide, who had had a rather strenuous day of it, 
fell asleep. He was seated alongside of his commanding 
officer and his head fell on the captain's shoulder. Lieu- 
tenant Armstrong, who was seated opposite him, was 
about to reach over and awaken Anderson, but Captain 
Semmes by a gesture stopped him, saying, "Let the boy 
sleep; he is tired out." Had Anderson been awake he would 
rather have dropped his head in the ship's furnace than 
on Captain Semmes's shoulder, for the captain was not a 
man with whom any one would care to take liberties. As 
it was, however, Ned had the honor of being the only man 
who ever made a pillow out of "old Beeswax" as Semmes 
was called behind his back. 

Captain Semmes was an austere and formal man, and, 
with the exception of Dr. Gait, the surgeon, and Mr. Kell, 
his first lieutenant, he rarely held any intercourse with his 
officers except officially. He waxed the ends of his mustache 
(which the sailors called his "st'unsail booms") and he 
would pace his quarter-deck, alone, twisting and retwisting 
those long ends. He reminded one of Byron's description of 
the captain of a man-of-war in "Childe Harold": — 

"Look on that part which sacred doth remain 
For the lone chieftain, who majestic stalks, 
Silent and feared by all — not oft he talks 
With aught beneath him, if he would preserve 
That strict restraint, which, broken, ever balks 
Conquest and fame. . . ." 

Captain Semmes was a past-master in the art of dealing 
with Latin-Americans. When the Alabama entered the 
port of Bahia, the governor sent an aide, attired in mufti, to 
demand that Captain Semmes show his commission. Cap- 



130 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

tain Semmes fixed his steely eyes on the visitor, and then 
quietly demanded that the gentleman first show his own, 
and his authority for making the demand. Naturally the 
aide-de-camp had not had the forethought to provide him- 
self with either, so he took his departure. As he left the 
cabin, Captain Semmes kindly suggested that if the gentle- 
man wished to be treated courteously on his next visit, it 
would be advisable to wear his uniform. Of course the aide 
shortly came back, properly costumed, and with his com- 
mission in his pocket, and also a courteous request that 
Captain Semmes would call at the palace and show his com- 
mission to the governor in person. No man knew better 
than Captain Semmes that he who attempts to enter into 
a bowing contest with a Latin-American is lost. 

Shortly before we left Bahia a coasting steamer entered 
the port, bringing the news that the United States ships 
Niagara and Mohican were either at Pernambuco, a short 
run to the north, or else on their way south, in search 
of us. Whether this information had any influence on our 
movements or not, of course a midshipman could not be 
expected to know; but all the same we got ready to de- 
part. The Niagara carried twelve eleven-inch pivot guns, 
which enabled her to fight them all on either side. She was 
designed by Steers on the lines of the famed yacht America, 
of which also he was the designer; and the Niagara, although 
a steamer, had shown marvelous speed under sail. She had 
accompanied the British fleet across the Atlantic when the 
first Atlantic cable had been laid, and it was of her that 
Admiral Milne spoke when he wrote to the British Admir- 
alty from on board his seventy-two-gun line-of-battle ship 
that he was in company with a sloop-of-war which carried 
only twelve guns, but could outrun his line-of-battle ship 
and whip her when caught. Consequently there was no 
doubt on the part of any of us that the Niagara could clear 
the South Atlantic Ocean of Alabamas and Georgias. 

When this news concerning the Niagara and her consort 



Refused Permission to depart 131 

reached the port we had not finished coaling, and the na- 
tives, who had seemed so anxious to be rid of our presence, 
now appeared to seek for excuses to delay our departure. 
Having transferred some five hundred pounds of powder 
from the Georgia to the Alabama, as the latter ship had 
used up some of her very short supply in her fight with the 
Hatteras, in the forenoon of May 22 Captain Semmes sent 
me with a verbal message to the governor informing him 
that he would sail at half-past four that afternoon. While 
I was standing respectfully before the governor awaiting 
his answer, the captain of the little white Portuguese sloop 
was striding up and down the room with a fierce expression 
on his face. Finally the governor told me to tell Captain 
Semmes that the Alabama would not be permitted to de- 
part at that hour, as the port regulations did not allow ves- 
sels to depart after four o'clock; and the Portuguese cap- 
tain said to the governor, in French (evidently for my bene- 
fit), that if the governor wanted the "corsairs" stopped, he 
would stop them for him ! When I repeated this remark to 
Captain Semmes, he only smiled and said, "Does he want 
his pretty white paint spoiled?" 

Captain Semmes then sent me back to the governor with 
a message to the effect that the port regulation applied only 
to merchant vessels and that the Alabama and Georgia 
were men-of-war. At 4 p.m. the Alabama fired a gun as a 
signal to one of her boats to come aboard and at once com- 
menced to weight anchor. We could see from our deck a 
company of soldiers trotting at the double-quick down to 
an obsolete water battery, where the old-fashioned rust- 
eaten cannon were mostly mounted in an extraordinary 
fashion, their muzzles resting on the parapet and their 
breeches supported on logs of wood. On board the Portu- 
guese corvette there also seemed to be great excitement, as 
they beat to quarters with such a racket that every man 
aboard seemed to be giving orders or directions to some one 
else. At exactly half-past four the Alabama hoisted her 



132 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

boat, weighed anchor, and slowly got under way; then, 
turning around, and hoisting her flag at the main, she steered 
for the Portuguese. She passed so close to that vessel that I 
thought for a moment their yards would crash together, 
but the Portuguese allowed her to pass by without moles- 
tation. It was none of her business anyhow! 

When we followed the Alabama out, we passed very close 
to the water battery where the men were standing at their 
guns, but not a shot was fired until we were at least a mile 
and a half away, when we saw a puff of smoke and immedi- 
ately afterwards a shot skipped over the placid waters of 
the bay, falling half a mile short of us. We wondered how 
many men in the fort had been killed, for it was a brave 
and reckless act to fire one of those guns. We did not reply, 
as we did not know how soon it might be necessary for us 
again to enter a Brazilian port. 

As we passed out of the Bay of Todos os Santos it was 
wrapped in the golden splendors of the most gorgeous sun- 
set it has ever been my good fortune to behold. 



CHAPTER XV 

"Tempest in a teapot" — Capture clipper ship George Griswold of New 
York — Burn bark Good Hope of Boston — Funeral at sea — Bark Seaver 
goes to assistance of the Good Hope and is captured — Transfer prisoners to 
the Seaver. 

We followed in the track of the Alabama down the 
Brazilian coast. The weather overhead was fine, but sud- 
denly a terrific tempest broke loose out of our mess teapot, 
a piece of crockery which had been bought by the joint 
funds of Passed Midshipman Walker and myself. Mr. 
Walker had been promoted to the dignity of a quarter-deck 
watch recently. Unfortunately I was the only line officer 
he ranked, and he never allowed me to forget the fact. My 
position on board reminded me of the story of the old sailor 
who, in spinning a yarn, had told how every man in the 
navy ranked some one else, but, catching sight of the 
"powder-monkey," he added: "Except you, Jacky!" 
whereupon Jacky retorted, "Yes, I does; I rank Dennis," 
— Dennis being the name of the pig who enjoyed the envi- 
able position of mascot and pet of the whole ship's crew. 

The cause of the hurricane bursting out of the teapot was 
my ordering the steerage steward to make me some choco- 
late, which he served in the teapot. The passed midship- 
man, passing through the steerage, smelled the odor, very 
peremptorily demanded to know by whose orders chocolate 
had been put into that teapot, and, on being informed that 
I was the culprit, he told me that he would attend to my 
case as soon as he came off watch. It was the first dog- 
watch that he was keeping — I was impatient for it to be 
over. I went at last out on the deck and walked up and 
down under the waist boats so that I should be on hand 
when it was over. At last eight bells sounded, and after 
being relieved from the deck the passed midshipman came 



134 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

down from the poop and was about to proceed to his quar- 
ters when I stopped him and told him that I had stood all 
I intended to stand. Then I struck him. We fought all over 
the deck and the men ran aft making a circle around us, 
urging us on. The officer of the deck came to part us, but 
the men crowded so that he could not get to us. He then 
ran into the wardroom, returning accompanied by all the 
officers, who, with their side arms, drove the men forward 
and proceeded to separate the combatants. The first lieu- 
tenant then marched us into the presence of the captain, 
who placed us both under close arrest, but not for long; the 
ship was too short of officers, and while Walker's confine- 
ment gave the watch officers extra duty, as the only mid- 
shipman on board I had a great deal of unpleasant work 
which some officer had to attend to during my incarceration, 
such as boat duty, acting as master's mate of the berth 
deck, and superintending the issuing of the grog ration, 
besides my regular watch on the forecastle. So kind influ- 
ence was used in our behalf, — of course, disinterested, — 
and our captain, who was a most good-hearted and amiable 
gentleman, let us off and restored us to duty after a week's 
confinement and a lecture. 

We were beginning to think that the Alabama had cleared 
up all the Yankee merchantmen in that part of the ocean, 
when one day we spied a ship with the unmistakable long 
sky sail poles and brought her to. She proved to be the 
American ship Prince of Wales, but as she had a neutral 
cargo aboard we had to bond her. These bonds were given 
by the master in the name of his owners and stipulated that 
in consideration of our not burning his vessel, they would be 
paid six months after the ratification of a treaty of peace 
between the United States and the Confederate States 
Governments. 

On June 8, at daylight, we found ourselves off the en- 
trance to the harbor of Rio de Janeiro and in plain sight of 
the famous landmark called the Sugar Loaf. We also saw 



Capture Clipper Ship 135 

a splendid big clipper ship making her way toward the port. 
Putting on a full head of steam and setting all sail that 
would draw, we started in chase of her. The stranger evi- 
dently had no doubt as to our character for she immedi- 
ately set all of her kites and studding sails and made all 
possible haste for her haven of refuge, which lay within the 
charmed marine league from the shore. Some thought that 
she had made it, but Mr. Ingraham, our youthful navigator, 
announced that in his opinion she was a few inches outside 
of it. There was no time to be lost, so we cast loose our guns 
and after a few shots brought her to. The prize proved to 
be the clipper ship George Griswold of New York, manned 
by a negro crew with the exception of her captain and mates. 
There was great rejoicing on the Georgia over this capture, 
as the Griswold was the ship which had carried a cargo of 
flour and wheat, a gift from the people of the United States, 
to the starving factory operatives of Lancashire, whose 
means of earning a livelihood had been interfered with by 
our war. Some of the bread made from this cargo had been 
distributed at Birkenhead, opposite Liverpool, by a dis- 
tinguished committee at the head of which was the cele- 
brated preacher Henry Ward Beecher, who from a stand, 
on which had been placed a model of the Alabama, made a 
speech strongly denouncing the South in general, and the 
Alabama in particular. At the conclusion of his oration 
the loaves of bread were tossed to the crowd, who, instead 
of eating it, used it to pelt the unoffending effigy of the 
Alabama. It did not look as though they were so very 
hungry; but there can be no doubt that this gift of bread- 
stuff changed the sympathies of the working classes of 
England and converted them into ardent adherents to the 
cause of the North. 

The captain of the Griswold had no trouble in proving 
that she carried a neutral cargo, so we had reluctantly to 
bond her for her own value of one hundred thousand dollars 
and let her go. In the mean while, the booming of our guns 



136 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

had evidently been heard in Rio, as Brazilian men-of-war 
and battleships of other nationalities began to send great 
columns of black smoke out of their funnels in their haste 
to get up steam. We thought it advisable to leave the local- 
ity, and drew out to sea. Soon we saw the warships coming 
after us and they followed us all day; shortly after dark, 
however, we put out our lights, — "dowsed our glims," as 
the sailors say, — and had the satisfaction of seeing the 
pursuers "pass in the night." 

On June 13, after a long chase, we captured a very fast 
clipper bark called the Good Hope of Boston, bound for 
Cape Town, whose crew asserted that they had escaped 
from the Alabama the day before and insisted that if the 
wind had held we could not have caught them. The Good 
Hope's cargo was composed of "Yankee notions" as her 
mate called it, consisting of every imaginable thing from a 
portable country villa to a cough lozenge, and including 
carriages, pianos, parlor organs, sewing machines, furni- 
ture, dry goods, etc. On boarding her we were informed that 
her captain — Gordon by name — had died on the voyage 
and that his son, a youth of eighteen, who was a member of 
the crew, had objected so strenuously to his father being 
buried at sea that in deference to his wishes the carpenter 
had made a rough, oblong box and partly filled it with brine 
from the beef casks, and the ship's steward had slashed the 
body in every conceivable way with a carving-knife and 
into these gaping wounds had stuck slices of ship's pickles, 
the better to preserve it. The body had then been put into 
the briny, improvised cofhn and the cover tightly nailed 
down. 

It was late in the afternoon when we made the capture 
and Lieutenant Evans went on board as prize master. We 
had expected to lay by the Good Hope all night with the 
object of taking provisions out of her in the morning, but 
Lieutenant Smith, who had the mid-watch on the Georgia, 
allowed the prize to drift out of sight and when daylight 



Funeral at Sea 137 

came she was not to be seen. Naturally we were very 
anxious, as Mr. Evans had only five of our men with him 
and the Good Hope's crew numbered over twenty. Shortly 
after sunrise we were greatly relieved again to catch sight 
of her and soon we were near enough to commence trans- 
ferring her provisions to our own ship. When we had got all 
we wanted, Captain Maury ordered the coffin containing 
the dead captain to be brought aboard the Georgia. This 
was no easy thing to do in a small boat with the sea running 
quite high, but the feat was accomplished and it was safely 
hoisted out of the boat by means of a "whip" sent down 
from our main yard, and reverently placed on two carpen- 
ter's "horses" which awaited it just in front of the entrance 
to the cabin, where it was covered with the Stars and Stripes, 
the flag the dead man had sailed under, and which we were 
told he loved so well in life. Several of our heaviest projec- 
tiles were made fast to the foot of the coffin and when all 
was ready the ship's bell was tolled for divine service, the 
prisoners were relieved of their irons (the dead captain's son 
had never had them put on him), and all hands were sum- 
moned to bury the dead. The prisoners and our crew min- 
gled together as they gathered around the coffin, at the 
head of which stood Captain Maury, prayer book in hand, 
with the son of the dead man standing beside him, while, 
our officers reverently took their places behind. Captain 
Maury then read the beautiful ritual of the Episcopal 
Church for the burial of the dead at sea. 

I was in charge of the deck while the service was going 
on. It was a bright sunny Sunday morning, a fresh breeze 
blowing, and from the burning prize, which had been set on 
fire when our last boat left her, a great column of smoke, 
hundreds of feet in height, soared toward the sky. Just 
over our main truck, all through the service, two white sea 
birds (the superstitious sailors called them "angel" birds) 
circled round and round. The solemnity of the occasion 
was somewhat marred when suddenly the lookout on the 



138 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

foretopmast sang out: "Sail ho!" Not wishing further to 
disturb the impressive ceremony by asking the usual ques- 
tion of "Where away?" I tiptoed forward and went aloft 
to see for myself, and beheld a strange craft rising on the 
horizon very rapidly. She appeared to be coming directly 
for us; she was close-hauled and it was impossible to tell 
whether or not a smokestack was hidden by her foresail, 
especially as United States crusiers used anthracite coal 
and made little or no smoke. 

As the stranger approached, I noticed the unusual white- 
ness of her sails — a sure sign of a man-of-war; next I 
noticed a long pennant flying gayly from the top of her main 
skysail pole — another sure sign ; and as she came still 
nearer she broke out the Stars and Stripes! I waited no 
longer, but scampered down from aloft, and softly stealing 
up behind Captain Maury, who was still reading from his 
prayer book, said in a whisper — "American man-of-war 
bearing down on us rapidly! " Never a muscle did he move, 
nor was there the slightest change in his solemn voice until 
he had finished, and the prisoners had lifted the coffin and 
committed the body to the care of the deep blue sea. Then 
he ordered me to beat to quarters and cast loose the guns. 

By the time this was done it was discovered that the 
stranger was not a man-of-war, but an innocent merchant- 
man. What could be her object thus to court her doom 
when she must have seen the burning Good Hope only a 
few cables' lengths from us? Nearer and nearer she came, 
while our gunners, lanyards in hand, kept their pieces 
trained on her. When within about a hundred and fifty 
yards of us she was suddenly thrown up into the wind, her 
main sail thrown aback, and, as she hove to, she lowered a 
whaleboat and her captain came over to the Georgia. 

We lowered a Jacob's ladder over the side, and the cap- 
tain of the bark, jumping out of his boat, ran up it like the 
true sailor he was. As he leaped on to our deck he exclaimed, 
"This is dreadful! Can I be of any assistance? — How did 



Bark Seaver 139 

it happen?" Captain Maury stepped forward and told him 
the Good Hope had been burned by his orders. The man for 
a moment looked aghast, and then an expression of indigna- 
tion passed over his features as he asked , * * Are you a pirate ? ' ' 
Captain Maury replied, "That Is what your people call 
me." He then took the skipper Into his cabin and heard his 
story. 

He had sailed from the United States before the war had 
begun and had made the long voyage around Cape Horn 
into the Pacific, where he had wandered about until he had 
got as far north as the Bering Sea. On his return he had 
stopped at one of the South Sea Islands, overhauled and 
painted his ship and whitewashed his sails, and had then 
hoisted a homeward-bound pennant. He was well on his 
way when, that morning, he had seen a dense column of 
smoke which he felt sure could come only from some unfor- 
tunate ship that had caught fire In the middle of the South 
Atlantic, and had at once left his course to go to her assist- 
ance. The first lieutenant of the Georgia went on board of 
the bark, whose name was the J. W. Seaver and searched 
her, finding many old newspapers, but none of later date 
than October, i860. Although her cargo was American, 
Captain Maury let him go, saying that he would stand a 
court martial before he would burn the ship of a man who 
had come on an errand of mercy to help fellow seamen in 
distress. We put our prisoners, as many as wanted to go, 
on board of the Seaver; we also put sufficient of the provi- 
sions we had taken from the Good Hope to last them for the 
voyage. There were not many of them, as most of the crew 
expressed a desire to ship with us, and they proved to be 
among the best men we had. 



CHAPTER XVI 

Barren island of Trinidad — The natural monument — Surf five hundred 
feet high — Battle in the air between frigate bird and sailor lad — Capture of 
splendid ship Constitution loaded with coal and missionaries — Georgia, by 
mistake, fires into the Constitution — Capture of ship City of Bath — Despoiled 
of $16,000 of our hard-earned wealth by trick of skipper's wife — Learn of the 
death of "Stonewall Jackson" — The Cape of Good Hope. 

On June 18, 1863, we sighted the barren island of Trini- 
dad situated in the middle of the South Atlantic about 
twenty degrees south of the Equator. The island is some 
six miles in circumference, and its precipitous sides rise out 
of the ocean to a height of about eight hundred feet. A few 
hundred feet from the island, and towering several hundred 
feet above it, a natural monument about two hundred and 
fifty feet in circumference at the base, and perfectly round, 
rears its head skyward. It is a natural beacon, and very 
useful to navigators who wish to sight it after coming 
around the Horn, to see if their chronometers are correct 
before shaping their courses for Europe or North America. 
One of the most magnificent spectacles in the world can be 
seen here when a storm is raging. The huge waves, with the 
sweep of the whole Atlantic, strike this rock with their full 
force, bursting into spray that ascends four or five hundred 
feet before it comes tumbling down like a waterfall. 

The island and the monument form a little cove where we 
anchored in deep water, although very near the land. We 
were so well hid that, although we had a good view of the 
ocean from our masthead, passing vessels would not be 
aware of our presence until they saw a shot skipping across 
their bows and heard the booming of a gun. From daylight 
until dark a cloud of sea-birds could be seen whirling round 
the top of the monument, where we supposed they had their 
nests. Great numbers of them also seemed to resent the 
presence of the ship and took no pains to conceal their feel- 



Barren Island of Trinidad 141 

ings, flying very close to us while screaming their protest. 
One day a sixteen-year-old lad by the name of Cox was on 
the lookout on the foretopgallant yard when he was sav- 
agely attacked by a huge frigate or man-of-war bird. The 
ship was rolling slightly, and, to maintain his footing, the 
lad had to hold on to a backstay with one hand while with 
the other he defended himself with his jack-knife. Suddenly 
the bird got a hold with both beak and claws on the boy's 
clothes and was furiously beating him with his great, power- 
ful wings. It looked for a moment as though the combatants 
would both fall from that lofty height, when a fortunate 
jab of Cox's knife disabled a wing and down came the 
feathered fighter to the deck, where he stood off the whole 
crew for some little time before they succeeded in killing 
him. 

One day several of our officers in a small boat rowed 
around the island, but we could find only one spot where a 
landing could be made — just opposite to where our ship 
lay. After great effort a few of us climbed to the top. There 
were signs that at some previous time men had lived there, 
— probably some shipwrecked crew: but the only signs of 
animal life we saw were one or two wild hogs. How did they 
come there? Years after our visit to Trinidad an adventur- 
ous German baron, who had married an American heiress, 
went in his private yacht to Trinidad, and, taking posses- 
sion, declared himself king. On his return to civilization he 
advertised for subjects to people his new kingdom. This 
attracted attention, and Great Britain, under the impression 
that the island might be of use as a coaling-station, at once 
claimed it. Brazil at once contested this claim, and the dis- 
pute that followed was finally settled in her favor. 

We had lain at Trinidad for several days when one morn- 
ing our lookout reported a sail on the horizon. Our fires 
were banked and it took but little time to get up steam, 
slip our cable, and start in pursuit. We did not want to 
waste coal, so we fired a blank cartridge as a signal for the 



142 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

stranger to heave to, but it had the effect only of making 
him crack on more sail. Getting nearer to him, we tried the 
effect of a soUd shot across his bows, with no better result. 
We then sent one so close to him that his nerve failed, and 
he hove to. The stranger proved to be the Constitution, a 
big, full-rigged ship, hailing from New York and bound 
from Philadelphia to Shanghai, with a cargo of coal and 
missionaries. She was forty-eight days out and carried a 
crew of twenty-six men. Half a dozen of us were put on 
board the prize, and, as there were several other sail in 
sight, the Georgia went off in chase, leaving us to work the 
big Constitution to the island where we expected our 
cruiser to rejoin us. The wind was very light and we made 
but slow progress. In the mean while the Georgia had dis- 
appeared below the horizon and we began to feel lonesome. 
For safety's sake we placed one half of the crew in irons and 
put them down below; the other half we kept on deck, mak- 
ing them work the ship for us until night came and then 
confined them all on the lower deck. 

The Georgia had not returned by dark, and neither had 
we succeeded in making the island, so we stood "off and 
on" all through the night. The next morning was fair and 
clear, but still there was no sign of our ship. 

The only restriction put upon the missionaries and pas- 
sengers was that they were not allowed to communicate 
with the crew or go forward of the mainmast. The captain 
was confined in his cabin and the mates in their state- 
rooms, but not in irons. Night had again fallen and the 
time for the extinguishing of all lights had arrived, when 
we noticed that there was a great deal of whispering going 
on in the staterooms. An order for silence was given to 
which very little attention was paid. A boatswain's mate 
came aft and reported that the prisoners forward seemed 
to be very uneasy and none of them were asleep. They 
were cautioned that if they did not keep quiet the hatches 
would be covered (which would have made it very uncom- 



Georgia fires into Constitution 143 

fortable for them), and by way of extra precaution an armed 
sentry stood at the hatchway with orders to shoot any 
man who showed his head above the combings. 

The night was very dark, and the rising sea caused the 
ship to roll more than ever. Toward midnight a large vase 
became loosened from its fastenings and fell to the deck 
with a crash ; then pandemonium broke loose. The women, 
screaming that the pirates were going to murder them, 
rushed out of their rooms in their night-clothes and pros- 
trated themselves on the deck, begging for mercy. Just then 
— to add to the terrors of the situation — the cries of the 
women were drowned by the boom of a cannon and the 
shrieking of a rifle-shell as it passed over us. I rushed on 
deck and through the speaking-trumpet shouted to our 
unseen foe: "Ship ahoy! Don't fire, we surrender!" — A 
hail came out of the darkness, asking what ship we were. 
I was going to answer that it was the United States ship 
Constitution, a prize to the Georgia, but as the words 
"United States" came out of my mouth there was some 
more banging of the great guns. Things were too serious for 
further conversation, so hastily ordering a boat lowered I 
rowed over to the strange craft and found her to be the 
Georgia ! 

It seemed that after leaving us she chased first one vessel 
and then another until she had got a long way from us; 
then, as frequently happened, the wooden cogs of her engine 
had broken and injured several people, and it had taken 
some time to make repairs. As soon as possible she had 
returned in search of us and was nearing the anchorage in 
the darkness when the officer of the deck thought he heard 
cheers which sounded as if they were being given by a man- 
of-war's crew about to go into action. He also said that 
when he asked what ship it was, he was sure the answer 
he heard was: "The United States sloop-of-war Niagara." 
There was so much talk about the Niagara on board of the 
Georgia that she evidently had taken possession of his 



144 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

imagination. I have often wondered if those poor women 
on the Constitution ever realized the fact that they had 
given us a greater scare than we had them. 

Several days were spent in coaling the Georgia from the 
Constitution, — a weary job, as our boats were small; then 
the passengers and crew of the prize were transferred to the 
Georgia, and our officers had to give up their staterooms 
to the ladies. They themselves slept in cots and hammocks 
crowded together and swung in the space between the 
rooms. We treated the women with the most respectful 
consideration, but nothing we could say or do seemed to 
allay their apprehensions. They were so very miserable 
that we felt sorry for them and prayed for a prize on board 
of which we could put them. 

On June 27 we chased and boarded a neutral ship which 
gave us the sad news of the death of "Stonewall" Jack- 
son, and in that lonely part of the ocean we paid his 
memory a last tribute of respect by lowering our flag to 
half mast. After a few more days of great discomfort we 
captured the American ship City of Bath, and hastily 
made preparations to transfer our unhappy guests to her. 
We sent boatload after boatload of provisions, which we 
had taken out of the Constitution, to her, and exacted from 
her captain a promise that he would take our unwilling 
and unwelcome guests to an American port. 

When the time came to transfer the women to the City 
of Bath the sea was so high that it would have been danger- 
ous for them to have attempted to climb down the ladder 
to get into the boats. Both ships were hove to out on the 
open sea and were rolling heavily, so we rigged a "whip" 
on the main yardarm and, placing the poor, frightened 
creatures in a boatswain's chair, first hoisted them up and 
over the rail and then lowered them into the waiting boat. 

We afterwards learned that the captain of the City of 
Bath had not kept the promise which had saved his ship 
from destruction, but had taken the unfortunate passen- 



Trick of Skipper's Wife 145 

gers and such of the crew who had not enlisted on the 
Georgia to Pemambuco, the nearest port, and left them 
stranded there while he went on to Boston with the pro- 
visions. The wife of the captain of the Constitution could 
not have suffered from want, as a few months afterwards 
we saw in a newspaper an interview in which she gave a 
very uncomplimentary account of her experiences with the 
pirates, but consoled herself by saying that she had saved 
from their clutches sixteen thousand dollars in gold of the 
ship's money by sewing the coins into her petticoats and 
safely left the corsair with her treasure. When we read this 
we felt that we had been robbed ! Before leaving Trinidad 
we slipped the Constitution's cable, set her on fire, and 
turned her adrift; we then made a target of her and exer- 
cised our men at the guns — and mighty poor range-finders 
and gun-pointers they proved themselves to be. 

On July 9 we overhauled a magnificent ship with tower- 
ing masts and auxiliary steam power — the Kent from 
London bound to Australia. After perfunctorily looking 
at the ship's papers the captain offered me a glass of sherry, 
and when I went on the deck the passengers crowded around 
me, eagerly asking if my ship was the famous Alabama. Of 
course I told them yes, and answered a thousand other 
questions. One of the passengers made particular inquir- 
ies about my age, and when I was about to get into our 
boat he presented me with a brown paper bag full of most 
delicious cakes, a luxury I had not tasted for many a long 
day. I met this gentleman again twenty-odd years after the 
cake incident. 

I lived the simple life on board the Georgia at this time 
owing to the fact that we had not entered a port where 
anything could be bought for so long a time. I only had 
my ship's ration of salt horse and hard tack to eat, but it 
must have been a healthful regimen as I had grown won- 
derfully in height and strength — and my sobriquet of 
"Little Morgan" had become a misnomer. 



146 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

On the 15th of August we sighted Table Mountain at the 
entrance of Table Bay. Behind the mountain is the city 
of Cape Town, the capital of Cape Colony. We chased ves- 
sels right under the shadow of lofty Table Mountain with 
its flat top, and still kept well outside of the sacred marine 
league. Over the mountain, when the wind is from a par- 
ticular direction, there hangs a white cloud formed by mist 
ascending which is called the ''Tablecloth." Looking down 
on Table Mountain is the Lion, a much higher eminence, 
the crest of which from certain points at sea looks like a 
lion couchant. The whole coast scenery is very grand as 
viewed from the ocean. 

The next morning we found ourselves very close to that 
awesome and forbidding-looking promontory called the 
Cape of Good Hope, — why so called is as mysterious as 
the ugly, ragged, and jutting rock itself looks to be. No 
wonder that the ancient Portuguese mariners believed that 
the demons who dwelt there dragged their ships back in the 
night and so prevented them from doubling the ugly head- 
land. As we passed it under steam the sea was angrily lash- 
ing its base and the black rock was ugly enough to fill any 
one with dread even though he had never heard any of the 
blood-curdling legends connected with it. 



CHAPTER XVII 

Simon's Town — The Alabama had just sailed from the port — Two of the 
Georgia's engineers, the boatswain, gunner, and several seamen get "cold 
feet" and leave us — Our first lieutenant, Mr. Chapman, ordered to Europe — 
Visit the city of Cape Town — Skippers of burned ships not friendly and dis- 
posed to start a rough-house — H.M. troopship Himalaya — "Dixie" — Ex- 
citing experience with Malay fishermen — Albatross and Cape pigeons — Meet 
the tea fleet — Also the U.S.S. Vanderbilt — Myriads of fish follow the 
Georgia making the ocean at night appear to be in flames. 

Passing into False Bay, which lies behind the Cape of 
Good Hope, on August i6 we dropped our anchor in front 
of Simon's Town, situated on Simon's Bay, a small inden- 
tation of the land on the great False Bay. We had no 
sooner let go our anchor than a British official boarded us 
and ordered us to put to sea at the expiration of twenty- 
four hours. But we knew many a trick to get around inter- 
national law, and showed him that our engine was broken 
down, omitting to add that the disaster had occurred just 
before we came to anchor. It was a habit of that engine to 
break down just as we entered port if we wanted to remain 
over the legal twenty-four hours. Besides, we wanted to 
caulk our decks which leaked badly, as the oakum, in the 
bad weather to which we had been subjected, had worked 
loose; besides we had been constantly at sea for four 
months in tropical waters and the iron bottom of the 
Georgia was covered with a growth of sea-grass from eight 
to twelve inches long which impeded her speed more than 
one half. The British authorities ordered their own offi- 
cials to hold a survey on her and report on the absolutely 
necessary repairs. 

The first news of interest to us was that the Alabama had 
sailed from Simon's Town a few hours before our arrival. 
It seemed that she had got into hot water with the authori- 
ties by capturing the bark Conrad too close to the line of 
the ubiquitous marine league, had changed her name to 



148 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Tuscaloosa, and converted her into a Confederate cruiser. 
This news that the Alabama had got herself disliked by 
the Colonial Government brought on an attack of "cold 
feet" which so seriously affected two of our engineers, the 
boatswain, and the gunner, all Englishmen whom we had 
brought from London with us, that they pleaded with the 
captain for their discharges. This he granted, although 
the loss of the engineers was a serious matter. Several of 
the British sailors who had joined us at Ushant Island, 
sailor-like, discharged themselves and left behind the pay 
due them. With three or four exceptions our ship's com- 
pany was now composed entirely of Americans. But a 
much greater loss to us than these men was the detach- 
ment of our first lieutenant, Mr. Chapman. He had be- 
come dissatisfied with his position of executive officer of a 
little brig, knowing as he did that many men far beneath 
him in rank were in command of gunboats in the Confed- 
eracy and that others were aspiring to command the cruisers 
which were being fitted out in England and in France. Cap- 
tain Maury sympathized with his ambition and allowed 
him to return to England — and a bad day it was, too, for 
the Georgia when he left, for he was a man of iron nerve, 
a strict disciplinarian with a kind heart, and absolutely 
just. 

Having been cooped up in very restricted quarters for 
more than four months, I longed once more to throw my 
leg over a horse and get a little congenial exercise. Having 
obtained leave, I mounted a livery-stable steed and started 
for a twenty-mile ride to Cape Town. The journey across 
country was a very uninteresting one. I only met one 
Dutch boy, who either could not or would not talk Eng- 
lish, and a Kaffir negro with whom I did not care to fra- 
ternize on account of his color. But I did see what interested 
me greatly — geraniums in profusion growing wild and 
called weeds, and "everlasting" flowers, which when 
plucked may be laid away in a drawer for months and when 



Unfriendly Skippers 149 

taken out and placed in water will regain their freshness in 
a very little while. 

At the hotel where I stopped in Cape Town I found that 
eight or ten captains and mates of ships recently destroyed 
by the Alabama were guests. I was in uniform, and being 
in neutral territory I had no idea that they would attempt 
to molest me. But I was mistaken. I passed them in the 
lobby and on the piazzas without their taking any notice 
of me, but when I entered the dining-room where they were 
already seated, and where there were many other people, 
they arose en masse and swore worse than did the "army 
in Flanders," damning pirates in general and myself in 
particular. They were advancing on me in a most threat- 
ening manner when the proprietor of the place rushed into 
the room and commanded the peace. He begged me to go 
with him into his private dining-room, but I protested that 
it was the disturbers of the peace who should be made to 
leave. I was finally persuaded to accompany my host and 
at his private table found much more congenial society in 
the company of his charming wife, two lovely daughters, 
and two grown sons, especially as they told me that their 
sympathies were all with the South. They also gave me a 
glass of the sweet Constancia wine for which the colony is 
famous. The only thing that marred the pleasure of the 
meal happened at the end when my host unfortunately 
asked me what I would have done if the Yankee skippers 
had assaulted me. I naively answered that I was perfectly 
able to take care of myself, as I had a Colt's revolver 
strapped to me and very handy. I shall never forget the 
look of horror that passed over the faces of those English 
people. I could not understand it — coming as I did from 
a country where almost every man carried a weapon, and 
where it was considered the proper thing to resent an as- 
sault with a shot. 

When I returned to my ship I found the caulkers still 
at work and the din they made interfered with our com- 



150 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

fort for many a day. I also found that Her Majesty's troop- 
ship Himalaya had come into port with a regiment of 
Highlanders on board bound for India. One day, while 
returning from shore in one of our cutters, I steered her 
very close to the troopship. The band was playing on the 
quarter-deck, and as we approached the band struck up 
"Dixie," and I stood up in the boat and took off my cap. 
The Himalaya's crew and the soldiers raised a cheer which 
was quickly suppressed, and I afterwards heard that the 
bandmaster and the officers who had instigated him to 
play "Dixie" had been reprimanded. We afterwards met 
some of these officers on shore and they invited us to dine 
with them on their ship. The dinner was a very picturesque 
affair — the gay uniforms of the officers with their gold 
lace and the beautiful toilets of their wives and daughters : 
the scene was not one to be easily forgotten. The High- 
land pipers playing their bagpipes marched three times 
around the table and a more awful screeching noise than 
they made it had never before been my misfortune to hear. 
A Scotch officer greatly embarrassed me by asking if I 
did not think it delightful music. When the table was 
cleared of all the good things, the colonel arose and said, 
"Gentlemen, will you fill your glasses?" This having been 
done, he again arose and solemnly proposed the toast which 
consisted of only two words, "The Queen!" The glasses 
were emptied, and the function was at an end. 

The weather around the Cape of Good Hope is notori- 
ously treacherous. One afternoon I asked permission to 
go on shore and it was granted me on my solemn promise 
that I would be back in time to keep the mid-watch. I had 
a most enjoyable time until about ten o'clock when I had 
to leave my companions so as to catch the Georgia's boat. 
I was disappointed to find that no boat had come for me, 
and that it was blowing "great guns." I wanted to keep 
my promise, but none of the native watermen would under- 
take to put me aboard, saying that the sea was too high. 



Exciting Experience 151 

At last a man told me that some little distance up the 
beach there was a hut occupied by some Malay fishermen 
and that they would risk anything for money. I went to 
the shanty and had some little difficulty in routing them 
out of their slumbers. After a great deal of bargaining five 
of them agreed to go with me for two pounds, which I truth- 
fully told them was all I had. At Simon's Town when the 
wind is from the southwest the huge rollers of the South 
Atlantic have a clean sweep into the open roadstead which 
answers for a harbor. The huge Himalaya could be plainly 
seen in the moonlight tugging at her anchors while rolling 
heavily, and the little Georgia was wallowing and plunging 
bows under and the spray in sheets passing over her. The 
curlers coming high on the beach did not look inviting, but 
it had to be done. Before embarking the Malays insisted 
that in the presence of the witnesses gathered around the 
boat I should agree to take all the responsibility and steer 
the boat. The boat was high on the beach and was resting 
on wooden rollers. She was taken to the water's edge and 
we got into her — the Malays got out their oars, and their 
numerous friends seized hold of the gunwales and dragged 
us out until she was afloat, and then they let us go. It was 
an awful effort to get through the surf, but the feat was 
finally accomplished. Outside of the breakers the seas 
were still higher and we took a great deal of water into the 
boat which compelled two of the men to take in their oars 
and go to bailing. The water gained on us, and it began to 
look very dubious as to whether we would reach the ship 
or not. But by almost superhuman exertions the Malays 
succeeded and only just in time, for as a line was thrown 
from the Georgia the boat sank under us. The smart 
Malay at the bow oar the moment he caught the line had 
instantly taken a turn around the forward thwart and made 
it fast. The Georgia quickly sent down a "whip" from the 
main yard and we were safely hoisted on board. The offi- 
cer who would have had to walk the mid-watch if I had 



152 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

failed to return seemed disposed to regard me somewhat in 
the light of a hero. The others said I was an idiot, and the 
captain gave me a good scolding for what he termed my 
foolhardiness. Somehow or other I never could make a suc- 
cess of that hero business. • 

We had received information that H.B.M. cruiser Nar- 
cissus was coming from Table Bay to investigate our long 
stay in a British port and to see that we did not longer in- 
fringe upon the rules set forth in Her Majesty's neutrality 
proclamation, so like the sensible dog which "got up and 
walked out when he saw preparations being made to kick 
him," we bade good-bye to Simon's Town. As we were 
leaving who should come into port but the Narcissus, and 
that policeman of the seas not only did not attempt to ar- 
rest us, but dipped her colors to us as her enthusiastic crew 
manned the rigging and gave us three lusty cheers — need- 
less to say that we returned the compliment with interest. 

Passing out of False Bay into the South Atlantic we 
steered a southeasterly course, followed by many graceful 
albatross and thousands of Cape pigeons, a pretty little 
speckled sea-bird strongly resembling in size and appear- 
ance its domestic namesake. 

The sailors threw out a line with a hook baited with a 
small piece of fat pork which was almost instantly gob- 
bled by a huge albatross measuring almost twelve feet from 
tip to tip. The poor bird was hauled aboard, the hook un- 
fastened from its bill, and it was turned loose on the deck 
when it became fearfully seasick, causing much amuse- 
ment for the men. It is a singular fact that all sea-birds, 
despite the fact that they will alight on the water and ride 
over the highest waves without discomfort, become ill the 
moment they touch a ship's deck. Besides his size, our al- 
batross was remarkable for a brass bracelet he wore on 
one of his legs on which was engraved, " Condor 1854." His 
appetite had evidently got him into trouble on a previous 
occasion. 



Meet the Tea Fleet 153 

The morning after we lost sight of the Cape of Good 
Hope we saw on the horizon a large number of sail. We 
knew at once that they were the quarry we were looking 
for. The wind was very light and fortunately they were 
coming toward us, for the Georgia's chasing days were over. 
The mass of long sea-grass on her hull had reduced her 
boasted speed of nine knots an hour under steam to less 
than five. 

As the fleet of Indiamen loaded with silks and tea from 
the Orient approached us, we picked out those ships which 
we suspected might be American and ran up alongside of 
them, sending an officer on board to examine their papers 
without putting them to the inconvenience of having to 
heave to, as we knew how anxious they all were to get to 
the northward of the Cape before bad weather came on 
again. We went from ship to ship, but had no luck, as all 
we boarded were either neutral vessels or else American 
ships which had changed their nationality and had neu- 
tral cargoes aboard. We had changed our course and 
accompanied them until the evening of the next day when 
we found ourselves under the shadow of Table Mountain. 
The sun was setting when suddenly we saw a great paddle- 
wheel steamer, her double walking-beam engines making 
her nationality unmistakable. She was headed for Table 
Bay, her course taking her across our bow and she soon 
was only about five miles away. 

Captain Maury ordered all hands to assemble at the 
mast and said to them, "Men, that steamer is theVander- 
bilt; she can outrun us and she can whip us after she 
catches us. I am going to lay you alongside of her and you 
had far better follow me aboard her and die like men fight- 
ing for your lives than to tamely allow yourselves to be 
hung from her yardarms. Go to quarters!" 

We held our course and the Vanderbilt kept on without 
taking any notice of us and entered Table Bay into which 
she had hardly poked her nose before we captured the 



154 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

American ship John Watt in plain view of the lights of the 
city of Cape Town which by this time were beginning to 
twinkle in the distance. I fear that we were perilously near 
that sacred limit called the "marine league" within which 
captures were unlawful, but we saw no fence demarking 
private property and gave ourselves the benefit of the 
doubt. 

The Vanderbilt carried twelve eleven-inch guns and she 
had come thousands of miles to capture the Alabama. She 
lay for some time at Cape Town and if her captain did not 
know where the Alabama was at that time, he must have 
been the only man in Cape Colony who was unaware of 
the fact that the Confederate cruiser was only a few miles 
away to the southward. 

We had not proceeded very far when we discovered that 
innumerable fish, albecore and bonito, seemed to be fol- 
lowing the ship, many of them swimming so close to her 
sides that they almost touched her. As we were under sail 
alone and going very slowly, there was nothing to disturb 
them except the occasional throwing of a grange (a three- 
pronged harpoon) by the men. The fish were so close to- 
gether that it was impossible to miss and we had quanti- 
ties of fresh fish for all hands for ten or twelve days before 
they left us. The nights were dark and we witnessed a sin- 
gular phenomenon caused by these myriads of fish rushing 
through the phosphorescent water, causing the ocean to be 
streaked, as though by flames, from horizon to horizon. 
In the daytime great schools of small fish could be seen flap- 
ping on the surface in mortal fright and giving one the idea 
of a huge silver salver as their shiny sides contrasted with 
the ocean's blue and shimmered in the sunlight. They had 
cause to be alarmed, as from under them hundreds of albe- 
core would pop up, leaping fifteen or twenty feet in the air, 
each one of them having a victim in his mouth. Flying 
fish in efforts to escape were sailing in every direction 
through the air. 



In the Doldrums 155 

It was useless for us to chase any vessels so long as we 
were in the southeast trades, as they would run away from 
us in the fresh breeze, but when we neared the Equator and 
got into the doldrums, that region of calms and squalls, 
waterspouts, and rains which fell in sheets instead of drops, 
we had no trouble in running up to any sailing vessel that 
we selected to examine. One moment a squall would strike 
them and they would be rushing through the water like 
ocean greyhounds and the next minute they would be be- 
calmed with their sails idly flapping against their masts. 
One minute we would be scorched by the tropical sun and 
the next we would be drenched by a cloudburst. Our rubber 
raincoats were useless, as nothing but the yellow oilskins 
of the sailors could shed that torrent of water. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

The prize Bold Hunter, abandoned and on fire, runs down and seriously 
damages the Georgia — Mirage at night — Peak of Teneriffe — Santa Cruz — 
Battle with a Frenchman — Rescue French brig Diligente — Captain Maury 
ill — Sailors get at the spirit-room — Mutiny. 

On October 9, 1863, in a light breeze and after a lively 
chase we brought to, with our guns, the splendid American 
full-rigged ship Bold Hunter, of Boston, from Dundee, 
bound to Calcutta with a heavy cargo of coal. We hove to 
to leeward of her and brought her captain and crew over to 
our ship, where as usual the crew were placed in irons and 
below decks. Being short of coal and provisions we pro- 
ceeded to supply our wants from the prize. This was easy 
so far as the provisions were concerned, but when it came to 
carrying the coal from one ship to the other in our small 
boats, in something of a seaway, that was another matter. 
After half a dozen trips one of our boats came very near 
being swamped, and the wind and sea rapidly rising, we 
gave it up as a bad job. This was about two bells (l p.m.) 
in the afternoon watch. We signaled our prize master to 
set fire to the Bold Hunter and also to come aboard the 
Georgia at once, which he did. 

We had hardly finished hoisting our boats to the davits 
when a great cloud of smoke burst from the hatches of the 
Bold Hunter coming from the thousands of tons of burning 
coal in her hold. The wind had by this time increased to a 
gale and the sea was running very high. As before men- 
tioned, the wind was very light when we captured the ship 
and she had hove to with all sail set, even to her royals. 
The flames leaped from her deck to her tarry rigging and 
raced up the shrouds and backstays and burned away her 
braces — her yards swung around, her sails filled, and the 
floating inferno, like a mad bull, bore down on us at full 



Bold Hunter damages the Georgia 157 

speed, rushing through the water as though she was bent 
on having her revenge. To avoid a colHsion, the order was 
given on the Georgia to go ahead at full speed. The gong 
in the engine room sounded, the engine turned the screw, 
and the screw began to churn the water under our stern 
The engine made two or three revolutions — then there was 
a crash — followed by yells as the engineers and oilers 
rushed on to the deck accompanied by a shower of lignum- 
vitae cogs and broken glass from the engine-room windows. 
The order to make sail was instantly given, but before the 
gaskets which confined the furled sails to the yardarms could 
be cast off, the burning ship was upon us. She had come for 
us with such directness that one could easily have imagined 
that she was being steered by some demon who had come 
out of the inferno which was raging in her hold. We stood 
with bated breath awaiting the catastrophe which seemingly 
was about to overtake us. The Bold Hunter was rated at 
over three thousand tons and had inside her a burning cargo 
of coal of even greater weight — the Georgia was scarcely 
one sixth her size. Onward rushed the blazing ship, pre- 
senting an awesome spectacle with the flames leaping about 
her sails and rigging while a huge mass of black smoke rolled 
out of her hatches. High above our heads her long, flying 
jibboom passed over our poop deck as she rose on a great 
wave and came down on our port quarter, her cutwater cleav- 
ing through the Georgia's fragile plates as cleanly as though 
they had been made out of cheese. The force of the impact 
pushed the Georgia ahead and for a moment we congratu- 
lated ourselves that we had escaped from the fiery demon 
whose breath was scorching us. But the Bold Hunter was 
not yet satisfied with the injuries she had inflicted. Recover- 
ing from the recoil, she again gathered way and struck us 
near the place she had previously damaged, but fortunately 
this was a glancing blow which had the effect only of wrench- 
ing off our port quarter davits and reducing the boat which 
was slung to them to kindling wood. Not yet satisfied, the 



158 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

apparently infuriated inanimate object made a third at- 
tempt to destroy the Georgia, this time, fortunately, missing 
her mark and passing a few yards to leeward of us. Her sails 
having burned, she soon lost headway and helplessly lay 
wallowing in the trough of the sea while the fire ate through 
her sides, and her tall masts, one after the other, fell with 
a great splash into the sea. Before she went down sur- 
rounded by a cloud of steam we had a good view through 
the great holes burned in her sides of the fire raging inside 
her. I imagine it was a very realistic imitation of what hell 
looks like when the forced drafts are turned on in honor of 
the arrival of a distinguished sinner. 

The Georgia needed a port, and needed one sorely, to 
repair her injuries, as she was leaking badly despite the 
work of the carpenter's gang in stopping up the hole made 
by the Bold Hunter's stem. We were making all possible 
speed for some place — I did not know where — when on 
the night of October 13-14 we were the victims of a most 
singular false alarm. The night was starlit and the sea was 
smooth — the only air stirring being that made by the slow 
progress of the steamer. I was keeping the mid-watch on 
the forecastle. Four bells (2 a.m.) had just struck, when the 
stillness of the night was broken by a frightened yell from 
the lookout — " Land ho!" Instantly the officer of the deck 
asked, "Where away?" and the lookout answered, "Dead 
ahead, sir!" — and added in what was a frightened wail, 
"For God's sake, stop her, sir!" By this time the officer of 
the deck had seen the cause of alarm and had signaled the 
engineer to stop and then to go astern at full speed. 

A sailor, although asleep, instantly knows if anything 
has gone wrong on his ship. A sail taken aback — or the 
engines stopping, — yes, even the cessation of the regular 
tramp of the officer as he walks his watch, will awaken Jack 
instantly. In this instance the watch below were out of 
their bunks and hammocks in a jiffy and scampered up the 
hatchway to find out what had happened. One look was 



Mirage at Night 159 

enough — there, not a ship's length ahead, was land which 
towered up Into the darkness. It looked as though it would 
be impossible to stop our headway before we should be 
dashed to pieces on it. Captain Maury and all his officers 
were gathered on the poop deck. It was the only time I ever 
saw the captain show any excitability. He rather peremptorily 
demanded an explanation from the navigator, who insisted 
that his calculations were right and that the nearest land to 
us was the Canary Islands, distant more than one hundred 
miles. The captain pointed to the land, a cable's length or 
less away, an unanswerable argument. The navigator could 
only shake his head doubtfully and reiterate that despite 
all appearances being against him he was sure his work was 
correct. The captain went into his room and together they 
went over the calculations, but no error could be discovered. 
Then the captain came forward and looked long and in- 
tently at the obstacle which barred our further progress, 
apparently. Suddenly I was surprised to hear him laugh in 
his usual gentle way, and then I almost jumped out of my 
boots as I heard him give the order to go ahead at full 
speed. As he passed me on his way back to his cabin he 
simply said, " Mirage!" I afterwards heard him say that it 
was the only time in his life that he had ever seen a mirage 
at night. Through the rest of my watch it seemed to me 
that the next revolution of the engine must necessarily 
plunge our flying jibboom Into those phantom rocks. The 
mirage faded away before daylight, and that morning at a 
distance of a hundred and ten miles we plainly saw the Peak 
of Teneriffe towering above the clouds. 

The morning after our mirage scare we dropped our 
anchor in front of the picturesque little town of Santa Cruz 
which nestles at the foot of the gigantic peak. The little 
fort which guards the harbor looked comical with its little 
popguns pointing seaward, but this fort will always live In 
history, for it was a projectile from one of its toy guns which 
removed the great Admiral Lord Nelson's arm. 



i6o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

The vicinity of the Canary Islands is a favorite hunting- 
ground for American whalers, and United States men-of-war 
were constantly on guard to protect them; one had just left 
Santa Cruz the day before we arrived. Had she remained 
twenty-four hours longer it would have been the end of the 
Georgia's cruise. 

We put our prisoners on shore, and as the authorities 
were as anxious to get rid of us as we were to get out of that 
neighborhood, our absolutely necessary repairs were hurried. 
During our short stay a native merchant who had supplied 
us with some necessities invited me to take lunch at his 
pretty villa in the suburbs and there I first saw a gazelle, a 
gentle, affectionate little creature who followed the mistress 
of the establishment all over the house and through the 
gardens — I also learned for the first time that canary birds 
in the Canary Islands are green instead of yellow like the 
birds of commerce which are bred in cages. 

After a two days' stay at Santa Cruz we got under way 
and on the 20th of October we had a rather amusing adven- 
ture with a bellicose Frenchman. The wind was so light 
that the sailing ships in sight had barely steerage way. 
Under steam we bore down on a bark which showed French 
colors, but looked like an American. As we ranged along- 
side of him my captain ordered me to hail him in French 
and I did so by bawling out through the speaking trumpet 
(called in these days a megaphone): "Mettez votre grand 
voile au mat!" — which is French for "Heave to!" — to 
which the excitable Gaul replied: " Je suis frangais, et je ne 
m'arrete pas pour un canaille de corsair!" — which is 
French for ** I am a Frenchman, and I don't stop for a low- 
bred pirate!" We lowered a boat and I was ordered to go 
aboard the rude fellow's ship and tell him that he must show 
his papers. But when I got alongside of him I found a nice 
reception awaiting me. The furious Frenchman was stand- 
ing in the gangway of his ship frantically waving a rusty 
old sword, while two men stood behind him armed with 



Battle with a Frenchman i6i 

muskets and the rest of his crew were brandishing hand and 
marlinsplkes, ugly weapons in the hands of sailors. Neither 
my boat's crew nor myself were armed, as we only intended 
to make a friendly visit, and I had no authority to use force 
in boarding him, so I returned to the Georgia for further 
orders. Captain Maury was provoked at the fellow's stub- 
bornness and ordered us to cast loose our guns. We first 
fired a blank cartridge which produced no effect. We then 
fired a solid shot across his bow, with no better result. The 
Georgia was being turned around all this time so that the 
little Whitworth guns on the poop deck (stern chasers) 
could be fired, but the order was given to fire before they 
could clear the Frenchman and a projectile went screaming 
over his forecastle. I never before saw a mainyard swing so 
quickly, and the bark was hove to as though by magic. I got 
into our boat again, this time accompanied by Lieutenant 
Evans and an armed crew. As we passed under the stern of 
the bark we saw that her name was La Patrie. At the gang- 
way we were received by the captain, unarmed this time, 
and I assured him that we only wanted to see his papers, and 
explained to him that any American ship could have a 
Frenchman on deck to forbid our coming aboard ; hence the 
necessity of our seeing the proof of nationality for ourselves, 
and that as a man-of-war we intended to exert that right. 
To our surprise the Frenchman replied that he refused to 
let us see his ship's papers unless we used force! The lieu- 
tenant told me to ask him what kind of force he wished to 
have used, and whether the presence of an armed boat's 
crew was not sufficient, and getting angry he told me to ask 
the Frenchman if he wanted to be knocked down as evidence 
that force was being used. The captain replied that he only 
wanted one of us to touch his coat-sleeve with a single fin- 
ger, and taking my hand in one of his with the other he took 
hold of my first finger and gently pressing it against the 
sleeve of a sailor who was beside me, showed us how he 
wanted it done. The lieutenant obliged him. He then 



1 62 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

showed the way into his cabin, and as Mr. Evans and I 
entered the room, with a graceful bow he said, " Ici nous 
sommes des messieurs" ("Here we are gentlemen"); and 
not only showed his papers, which were absolutely correct, 
but also opened a bottle of champagne for us. We thought 
that we had parted on the most friendly terms, but some 
days afterwards the Frenchman met and boarded a French 
steamer and sent a report of the outrage (?), as he termed 
it, to his Government, which would have caused us a great 
deal of trouble if it had not been for a good piece of luck 
which befell us in falling in with the French brig Diligente, 
which had been knocked over by a squall and was lying 
on her beam ends, out of food, and helpless, while every 
wave washed over her and her exhausted crew. Her cargo 
had shifted and her wearied men had been unable to right 
her. We sent a number of our crew on board who soon re- 
placed the cargo in its proper place and we spontaneously 
burst into a hearty cheer as she regained an upright position. 
Her captain was very grateful, especially for the provisions 
we gave him, and he gave us several bottles of eau-de-vie de 
Danzig with gold dust floating in it. This was the only thing 
in the brig which was not saturated with salt water. The 
Diligente hailed from Cherbourg, France, and her captain 
gave us a letter to his owners telling them of his misfortune 
and speaking in very complimentary terms of the assist- 
ance we had given him, and begged us to mail it from the 
first port we entered. 

A few days after we had rescued the Frenchman we ex- 
perienced quite a little uneasiness on our own account. A 
smoke was seen on the horizon and shortly afterwards a 
steamer appeared coming straight for us. We soon decided 
that she was a merchantman, but that proved nothing, as 
the United States Government had converted so many 
merchant steamers into men-of-war. Owing to our foul 
bottom the stranger gained rapidly on us. We went to our 
guns and waited to see what was going to happen. On com- 



Captain Maury ill 163 

ing abeam she proved to be the Portuguese steamer Bra- 
ganza, who wanted a comparison of longitude, as something 
had gone wrong with her chronometer. We were very glad 
that that was all she wanted, for things were not going well 
on board of the Georgia. 

Captain Maury had been ill ever since we had left the 
Cape of Good Hope. While there he had received letters 
from home telling him that, owing to the maneuvers of the 
Northern and Southern armies, his wife and children had 
become refugees, and he did not know what had become of 
them. He became very melancholy and rarely appeared on 
deck. Dr. Wheeden spent most of his time in the cabin with 
him. The discipline of the ship also missed the iron hand 
of Lieutenant Chapman. Lieutenant Evans, who had suc- 
ceeded Chapman as executive officer, was a most charming 
and accomplished gentleman, but he was not a strict disci- 
plinarian. Things had gone from bad to worse than bad, 
until one day some of the stokers discovered that a coal 
bunker was only separated from the spirit-room, where their 
grog rations were stored, by a thin bulkhead; this they 
bored through. They must have known the location of a 
particular barrel of whiskey, for they bored through the 
head of that also, and inserting a piece of lead pipe into the 
hole they got all the liquor they (temporarily) wanted. This 
they distributed among the crew and soon there was a battle 
royal going on on the berth deck which the master-at-arms 
was unable to stop. The first lieutenant went below and his 
presence had the effect of causing a pause in the turmoil. 
He persuaded the ringleaders to go on deck and appear at 
the mainmast, which was the court-house on the old-time 
men-of-war. Several of the men were sentenced to be placed 
in irons and confined in the "brig" (ship's jail) on a diet of 
bread and water. But the biggest bully in the ship swore 
that the master-at-arms was not man enough to put him 
in irons. The latter official was the chief policeman of the 
ship ; he was undoubtedly a scientific boxer and boasted that 



164 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

he had once been a prize-fighter, but if that was so he must 
have had a yellow streak in him, for it was evident that the 
men had cowed him and that he did not dare make a move. 
Here was a pretty kettle of fish ! — the authority of the 
executive officer defied to his face. Instantly appreciating 
the danger of such a state of affairs on such a ship as the 
Georgia, I suddenly leaped upon the man and bore him to 
the deck, where, in a jiffy, the master-at-arms placed the 
bracelets on his wrists. The other mutineers, quietly extend- 
ing their arms in sign of submission, were placed in irons, 
and confined below. The discipline of the ship needed as 
much repairing as the vessel did herself. It was time the 
Georgia sought a civilized port for more reasons than one. 



CHAPTER XIX 

Cherbourg — Letters from home tell of the deaths of my two brothers, 
captains in Stonewall Jackson's corps — French fleet arrives to keep us in 
order — Great storm and loss of flagship's launch and crew — Impressive mili- 
tary pageant at funeral — Captain Maury relieved from the command of the 
Georgia. — The C.S.S. Rappahannock — Kearsarge and Tuscarora waiting for 
us outside. 

We slowly dragged our heavy grass crop along and 
entered the English Channel where we knew Federal cruis- 
ers were on the watch, but we were fortunate enough not to 
be seen by them, and in the middle of the night of October 
28-29, 1863, we quietly stole into the harbor of Cherbourg, 
France, and dropped anchor. 

We had been at sea for eight long months, and with the 
exception of our captain, not an officer on board had heard 
from home. The news of our arrival at Cherbourg, however, 
quickly spread and the U.S.S. Kearsarge quickly appeared 
cruising up and down beyond the three-mile limit. But more 
welcome than the sight of our would-be captor was a pack- 
age of letters which had run through the blockade and had 
been forwarded to us by the Confederate agents, Messrs. 
Eraser, Trenholm & Co., of Liverpool. There was great 
rejoicing for all save me — I received two saddening mis- 
sives: one informed me of the death of my brother George, 
a captain in the First Louisiana Infantry, in "Stonewall" 
Jackson's division ; and when I opened the other it told me 
of the death of my brother Thomas Gibbes, a captain of the 
Seventh Louisiana, also with "Stonewall." 

Gibbes had been badly wounded at Antietam, and be- 
fore his wound was well healed had rejoined his regiment, 
with the survivors of which he had been captured at 
Kelly's Ford while covering the retreat of General Lee's 
army. He was taken to Johnson's Island, where he died 
a prisoner, leaving a charming young wife and two little 



1 66 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

baby boys to fight their own way in those troublous 
times. 

The morning after our arrival I was sent ashore to de- 
liver to the owners of the brig Diligente the letter of her 
captain. The owners published it, and it was well for us 
they did, for already the French authorities had demanded 
an explanation of our treatment of the bark Patrie. It 
evened things up, and the people of Cherbourg, while not 
at all gushing over us, treated us with courtesy. 

We had not been at Cherbourg twenty-four hours when 
the French ironclad fleet, headed by the flagship Couronne, 
the vessel that afterwards umpired the fight between the 
Alabama and the Kearsarge, entered the port, and the next 
day a fleet of old-time three-deckers, line-of-battle ships, 
also anchored near us. These, with the hundreds of guns 
mounted in the forts and on the breakwater which formed 
the artificial harbor, were certainly enough to keep even 
the formidable (?) Georgia in order. 

C.S. Cruiser Georgia, 
Cherbourg, France, 
December 5, 1863. 
My dear Mother: — 

I hope that you don't think your prodigal has forgotten you. 
I have written to you from every port, but directed my letters to 
Clinton, Louisiana, via the blockade, and would have continued 
to do so had it not been for a letter I received here from Lily [my 
sister Mrs. La Noue] dated from Macon, Georgia, telling me that 
you had returned to New Orleans and were within the Federal 
lines. 

We have been in the drydock and the bottom of our ship is 
clean once more, but she does look so ridiculously small alongside 
of these French ironclads and the great wooden line-of-battle 
ships. There are about twenty of them in all. 

There has been a great storm here. Night before last one of 
the line-of-battle ships, carrying eighty-four guns, dragged her 
anchors and only brought up when she was within twenty yards 
of our little cockleshell of a ship. I assure you we spent several 
hours on the anxious bench while expecting every moment to be 



Great Storm and Loss 167 

crushed by the Leviathan. The storm raged all the next day, the 
battleships, as well as our little craft, pitching bows under into 
every sea. Many of the fishing boats were wrecked on the coast 
and the breakwater supposed to protect this harbor, which it 
don't, at least in weather like this. Many tried to make the har- 
bor, but were pitilessly thrown on the rocks and ground into splin- 
ters among the boulders on the beach. One little fishing craft 
made such a noble struggle — she weathered the end of the break- 
water, but despite her heroic efforts it was evident that she must 
be wrecked on the beach before reaching smooth water or shelter. 
Anticipating trouble, the French flagship, the ironclad Couronne, 
had a launch towing astern with twenty men and a sub-lieutenant 
in it. The Couronne cast her off, and the young officer made a 
gallant attempt to rescue the fisherman, but it was a hopeless 
errand. We stood in silence on our deck and watched the pitiful 
struggle against the elements, while our own ship was dragging 
her anchors at which she was savagely tugging as she plunged 
bows under at every dive and the huge seas would sweep over our 
deck. At last the fishing smack struck the bottom and was almost 
instantly lifted by a great wave which carried her amongst the 
boulders smashing her to pieces. 

Seeing that he could be of no assistance the officer in the launch 
attempted to put her about — but she also was doomed. One 
moment she was in the trough of the sea and the next instant the 
crest of a great wave swept over her. Wave after wave followed in 
rapid succession, turning her over and rolling her up the beach 
as though she were a barrel, until she struck the boulders where 
she was literally torn to pieces. It was heartrending to watch 
those who had not been killed, or too badly crippled by the first 
shock, struggling to save themselves. As the surf would recede, 
they would stagger to their feet only to be knocked down by the 
next wave and thrown violently against the jagged rocks, and 
even after they were dead the pitiless sea continued to maim the 
helpless bodies by picking them up and slamming them down 
upon the stones. 

When the storm abated, the remains of the dead were recovered 
and taken to the navy yard where they were prepared for burial. 
The funeral, the next day, was one of the most impressive sights 
I ever witnessed. Ten thousand soldiers stood at " Present arms ! " 
on either side of the road leading to the cemetery as the procession 
passed between them. First came a large number of priests fol- 
lowed by a military band playing the Dead March. Then came 



1 68 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

the twenty-one caissons bearing the bodies, each drawn by six 
horses, the coffins being covered by the much loved " tri-couleur." 
These were followed by a number of admirals and naval officers 
according to rank. These in turn were followed by six thousand 
sailors from the fleet. 

Captain Maury was invited to attend the ceremony, and took 
me with him as his aide. We were given a place in the procession 
next after the admirals. 

Arriving at the cemetery, we stopped in front of a great trench 
where all of those gallant fellows were to be interred in one grave, 
except the young officer who had commanded the launch — he had 
a separate grave. His was the last coffin to be buried, and just 
as it was about to be lowered an aide-de-camp of the Emperor 
dashed up on horseback, and saluting Admiral La Rose, the rank- 
ing officer present, he presented him with an order from the 
Emperor and also a small package. Admiral La Rose read the or- 
der aloud. It commanded that the accompanying cross of the 
Legion of Honor should be pinned on the dead officer's breast. 
The lid of the coffin was unscrewed, and in death the young fellow 
was decorated with the bit of metal he had doubtless so much 
coveted in life. The coffin was then lowered into the grave and the 
earth covered these martyrs to duty. 

The officers and men then withdrew to some little distance from 
the newly made graves and stood watching a most thrilling spec- 
tacle as battery after battery of horse artillery dashed up to the 
edge of the graves, wheeled, unlimbered, fired a salvo, limbered 
up again and disappeared at the gallop. 

You may say what you please about Napoleonic tyranny (?), 
but it must be a great government for a soldier or sailor to die 
under. It may have been all a coup de tMdtre, but it looked splen- 
did and sent a thrill through me. 

I can form no idea as to what our future movements will be. 
If I knew I would not tell you, as there is no knowing into whose 
hands this letter may fall, so I can only ask you to continue writ- 
ing me in care of Messrs. Eraser, Trenholm & Co., lo Rumford 
Place, Liverpool, England. They will know where we are going, 
even if we do not. 

The Kearsarge is off the port waiting for us. She can wait. 
When the little Georgia's bottom is cleaned, we will slip by her in 
the night. 

The last cartoon in the French comic papers, making fun of the 
American war, represents two newly made graves alongside of 



The C.S.S. Rappahannock 169 

each other. On the headstone of one is written "Nord," and on 
the other "Sud." A dilapidated old slouch hat with a rooster's 
feather in it rests on each grave, and underneath is written — 
"Finis de la guerre dans TAmerique." 

And now I must say good-bye, my dearest mother. With love 
and kisses for you and my dear sisters, I am 

Lovingly your son, 

James Morris Morgan. 

Captain Maury was summoned to Paris to explain about 
our little fracas with the Patrie, and I accompanied him as 
interpreter. Commodore Barron, C.S.N. , and some twenty- 
odd other Confederate naval officers were in Paris by this 
time, the juniors waiting for ships that were building. At 
Captain Maury's own request, on account of his health. 
Commodore Barron relieved him from the command of 
the Georgia and ordered him to return to the Confederacy 
— so I went back to my ship alone. 

Every officer on the Georgia who could get leave got it, 
and Lieutenant Ingraham and I had to keep watch and 
watch, that is, four hours on and four off — sounds easy, 
but is rather trying on a growing boy. There was no 
competition among the higher officers for the honor of com- 
manding the Georgia, so the post was conferred on Lieu- 
tenant Evans. As for the juniors in Paris, they showed no 
wild desire to serve on the little ship, either. Two lieu- 
tenants who had a strong pull with the commodore came 
to us, but managed to secure their detachments after being 
on board only a couple of days. 

The monotony of my existence was broken by my being 
granted a week's leave of absence, which I utilized by going 
to Paris, and from there to Calais to visit some midship- 
men who were on board of the C.S.S. Rappahannock, with 
whom I spent a morning before continuing my journey to 
Liverpool. The Rappahannock is worthy of being men- 
tioned, if only on account of the unusual way in which she 
escaped from the Thames to become a Confederate cruiser. 



170 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

She was a condemned little British sloop-of-war and had 
been sold at auction and bought by a Confederate agent. 
The British Government knew all about the transaction 
and was perfectly willing that the Confederates should 
spend all the money they wanted to on her, but had no 
intention whatever of allowing her to escape to sea. English 
engineers, riggers, carpenters, joiners, and painters were 
busily at work on her as she lay at the dock, when one day 
Lieutenant W. P. A. Campbell, C.S.N. , attired in civilian 
clothes, appeared on board of her armed with authority 
from the supposed owner to make a thorough inspection. 
It also conveniently happened that the engineers had up 
steam and were testing the engines which they were 
slowly turning over. Mr. Campbell amiably expressed 
satisfaction with everything except the steering gear, and 
insisted that the only way of testing that was to take the 
vessel out into the stream and turn her around two or 
three times. This was amiably agreed to and the lines se- 
curing her to the dock were cast off. Mr. Campbell headed 
her down the river, and listening to no protests, hoisted 
the Confederate flag when he was beyond the marine 
league, and with his unwilling crew of artisans steered for 
Calais, which neutral port he entered claiming to be a 
Confederate States man-of-war. Of course the incident 
brought protests from the American Minister in London 
and in Paris and stirred up quite an international row. 

When I saw the Rappahannock at Calais, the French 
were allowing us to spend all the money we wanted to 
in fitting her for sea, but I do not believe they had the 
vaguest idea of ever letting her escape again. 

Continuing my journey to Liverpool, I spent two or 
three delightful days visiting Mr. Prioleau at Allerton 
Hall, where I met an old friend from New Orleans, Mr. 
C. W. Miltenberger, and Alfred Trenholm (whose clothes 
I had worn while in Charleston). These young gentle- 
men, on account of failing health, had been discharged 




MAJOR W. P. A. CAMPBELL 

Formerly of the C.S. Navy. Taken in Cairn in 1870 



Kearsarge and Tuscarora 171 

from the Confederate Army and were recuperating in 
Europe. 

My leave expired, and I returned to the monotony of 
my existence on board of the Georgia. It seemed that we 
never should get to sea again. Drills, watches, and meals 
— meals, watches, and drills. I don't think the French 
cared how long we remained so long as we spent money 
liberally on imaginary repairs (?). 

At last Lieutenant Kirby King and Sydney Smith Lee, 
the latter a younger brother of General Fitzhugh Lee, were 
ordered to us, and that put an end to the discomfort of 
keeping watch and watch, much to my delight. I suppose 
that our weariness of remaining in an uninteresting port 
was onl}'^ equaled by that of the crews of the Kearsarge and 
the Tuscarora who were tumbling about in the chop seas 
of the Channel waiting impatiently for us to come out. 
They would take turns in coming in close enough to the 
breakwater every day or two to see if we were still there 
in the harbor, until I think we should have felt neglected 
if they had failed to take an interest in us and ceased their 
visits. 



CHAPTER XX 

Leave Cherbourg — Storm ofif Cape Trafalgar — Coast of Morocco — 
Anchor in the open sea near the Great Desert — Caravans — Moors bring 
fish — Ancient Moor swims to the ship — We return visits and are kicked into 
the sea — We bombard the troglodytes — Give up hope that the Rappa- 
hannock will meet us — Weigh anchor and have a narrow escape from ship- 
wreck and falling into the hands of the Moors. 

One dark night in the middle of February, 1864, we 
weighed our anchor as quietly as possible, got under way, 
and slipped out of the western entrance to the harbor 
without seeing anything of either the Kearsarge or her 
consort, and with a clean bottom raced down the Channel 
and soon found ourselves on the broad Atlantic. We saw 
many ships, but molested none. Strange conduct for the 
Georgia, at which we wondered. But none knew, save our 
commander, whither we were bound, or what was our 
mission. Day after day we raced at full speed under steam. 

Off Cape Trafalgar one night we ran into a fearful 
storm, the most terrific in my seafaring experience. We 
put the ship's head into the wind and barely kept steerage- 
way on her. The high seas dashed over the ship in such 
volumes of water that to keep from being washed over- 
board, Lieutenant King, the quartermaster, and I lashed 
ourselves in the rigging ten feet above the deck. At one 
time the wind was so furious that it blew the tops off the 
enormous waves and the sea became one mass of seeth- 
ing foam in which the little Georgia floundered and wal- 
lowed until we had but little hopes that she would live 
through it. But with daylight fortunately, for us, both 
sea and wind went down, and by eight o'clock in the morn- 
ing the officers were able to come out of the wardroom 
and we were relieved. The door leading into the oflficers' 
quarters as well as the hatches had been battened down 
to keep the water out, and no one could get in or out while 



Coast of Morocco 173 

the storm raged. Mr. King and I, as well as the starboard 
watch, had been on deck since eight o'clock the previous 
evening, and more exhausted men than we were could 
hardly be imagined. 

The first land we sighted was the coast of Morocco. 
We passed down the coast in plain sight of the minarets of 
the ancient city of Mogador. When we reached a place 
where a range of barren-looking mountains ended at the 
sea and the great Sahara Desert extended into the unknown 
to the east and south, we dropped our anchor in the open 
ocean about a mile or more from the shore and about 
forty miles south of Mogador. We could see no signs of 
vegetable or other life on the desolate-looking land, with 
the exception of some bushes at the foot of the mountains. 
Day after day we lay there lazily rolling on the swell of 
the sea, the monotony only being broken occasionally by 
watching camel caravans to or from Mogador come along 
the beach and wind their way around the mountains, dis- 
appearing in the apparently limitless and glaring desert 
waste. 

When the sirocco came in our direction from across the 
burning desert, it carried with it fine particles of sand which 
got into our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, causing much 
discomfort, and added to this was the almost intolerable 
heat thrown off in the night by the thin iron sides of the 
ship, which made sleep almost impossible. 

Early one morning we were surprised by seeing an open 
rowboat near us with five or six Moors in it. They came 
alongside the ship and offered us some fresh fish which we 
gratefully accepted, giving In exchange some old hoop 
iron, two old rusty razors, and two or three dilapidated old 
sheets out of which turbans could be fashioned. These were 
much prized, and when they left us the last we saw of them 
as they proceeded parallel with the beach instead of pulling 
for the shore, they were evidently wrangling as to which 
of them should have the turban material. 



174 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

With the exception of the fishermen we had seen no evi- 
dence of there being inhabitants living on the shore near 
us, although we had been at anchor for more than three 
weeks, until about four o'clock one afternoon a round object, 
looking somewhat like a white sponge, was seen floating 
on the sea about half a mile off and between the ship and 
the shore. The waves were some four or five feet high, 
and as the strange object bobbed up and down on them it 
was soon discovered that it was coming toward us, and as 
it came nearer we discovered that it was the head of an 
old man. Finally he reached our vessel and we lowered a 
Jacob's ladder over the taffrail for him. With great effort 
he dragged himself up it and fell exhausted on the deck. 
Dr. Wheeden revived him with a drink of brandy and would 
have repeated the dose, but the old Mohammedan — true 
to his religion now that he had recovered his senses — 
pointed a bony finger heavenward, shook his hoary head, 
and muttered the holy name of Allah ! When the old man 
was sufHciently rested, as he was clothed by only a ragged 
piece of sacking which was wrapped around his loins, we 
gave him some Christian raiment and a lot of old trash, 
for which he seemed very grateful, and then we put 
him in one of our boats which I was ordered to take 
charge of, and put him on shore. Nearing the beach the 
water became so shoal that the boat grounded when 
more than twenty yards away from it, but the old man 
stepped over the side and waded ashore with his newly ac- 
quired treasures held high above his head. I saw no other 
human being in sight and left him to find his way home 
alone. 

Several of us, seeing that the few natives we had met 
were apparently disposed to be friendly, asked permission 
to go ashore to stretch our legs with a little exercise. The 
captain granted our request, at the same time instructing 
us to go unarmed as evidence of our friendly intentions if 
by chance we met any of the inhabitants. We got into a 



Kicked into the Sea 175 

boat, and like little boys going on a holiday laughed and 
joked with glee until the boat grounded, and the sailors, 
with the exception of two boat-keepers, stepped into the 
water, and we mounted on their backs and rode ashore, 
dry shod, in great style. 

It was delightful to feel the solid ground, or sand as it 
happened to be, under our feet once more, and we began at 
once to run and skylark up and down the beach. At the 
foot of the cliffs, some forty yards from the water, there was 
a growth of dwarf bushes. Suddenly — I never did know 
how it happened — we were separated and surrounded by 
hundreds of Moors armed with spears and old-fashioned 
guns of extraordinary length whose barrels were banded 
with silver at intervals of a foot or two apart. The Moors 
were shaking their guns and brandishing their spears while 
yelling like fiends, and all the time a seemingly endless 
stream of the black demons poured out from the bushes. I 
tried to see what had become of my companions, but could 
only discern a surging, struggling mass of Moors in every 
direction. One gigantic fellow seized me from behind and 
whirled me around until I faced the sea, and while others 
struck me with their hands, my particular giant preferred 
to use his feet, and he kicked me until I was almost up to my 
neck in the water. From my sensations I should judge that 
the sole of that Moor's foot without further roughening 
would have served very well for a blacksmith's rasp. Our 
unarmed boat-keepers gamely waited for us, and when I 
climbed into the boat I found my companions, who had 
been similarly treated, already there — safe but very wet, 
and looking very foolish. 

When we returned to the Georgia we were disposed to 
treat our experiences at the hands of the Moors as a good 
joke, but our young captain could not be induced to regard 
the matter in that light. In fact he was very indignant and 
ordered the drummer to beat to quarters without giving us 
time to take off our dripping clothes. The guns were cast 



176 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

loose and the order to fire given. The guns roared and the 
screeching shells sped away to burst over the heads of the 
astounded Moors, who stood not upon the order of their 
going, but disappeared, not however so mysteriously as 
they had appeared on the scene. The puzzle was solved: 
they seemed to run right into the side of the clifif . Evidently 
they were troglodytes and the caves were their homes. 
Whether or not our shells had hurt any of them we never 
knew. 

Three weeks and more had passed and we were getting 
very wearied. Our mission was now no longer a secret. We 
were waiting for the Rappahannock for the purpose of giving 
her our battery, ammunition, and a part of our crew — she 
was supposed to bring her own officers. 

The evening after our little fracas with the moody Moors, 
the hour at which the discipline of the ship was usually sus- 
pended and when the men, after their day's work, gathered 
on the forecastle and sang their sailor songs, while the offi- 
cers, having dined, were seated around the waist guns en- 
joying their cigars and engaged in conversation or dreamily 
listening to the words of a favorite sailor ditty, the refrain 
of which was, "Eight bells began to go: I love to hear them 
ring, my dear, and so do you, I know" — at this hour, the 
most pleasant of the twenty-four, when even a lonesome 
midshipman could butt into the conversation without fear 
of being snubbed — the lonely captain, it seemed, also 
craved the society of his fellow men, and he joined the group 
around the gun where we were speculating on the causes 
which might have delayed the Rappahannock. I was the 
only person on board who had ever seen her, and I expressed 
the opinion that she had never left port, and that anyhow 
I believed the little Georgia, bad as she was, was the better 
ship of the two — that the Rappahannock was a bluff- 
bowed old water-bruiser that did not have any speed under 
steam, and that my friends, the midshipmen, on board of 
her had told me she was "hogged" (strained) by lying on 



A Narrow Escape from Shipwreck 177 

the uneven bottom at low tide. I wound up my remarks by 
saying that unless the French Government had changed its 
attitude toward the Confederacy, there was little chance of 
the Rappahannock ever joining us, as when I had seen her 
in the slip at Calais two big chain cables were stretched from 
pier to pier, one in front of her bow and the other behind 
her stern, and that they were made fast around stone posts, 
and on each post sat a gendarme to see that they were not 
meddled with. The captain said he would give her just 
forty-eight hours more to put in an appearance, and if by 
that time she failed to materialize he would go and look for 
her. 

We did not wait the forty-eight hours of grace we had 
given the dilatory Rappahannock, as something exciting 
happened which changed our plans. A little before sundown 
the following day the wind came out from the southwest 
and blew a gale. The Georgia began to pitch bows under 
with every sea that struck her, and then to drag her anchor. 
We paid out more cable, but still she dragged. We let go our 
other anchor, but the force of the wind increasing, we con- 
tinued our promenade toward the rocky shore on which by 
this time the Moors, having become aware of the straits we 
were in, had assembled in hundreds to give us a warm recep- 
tion in return for the compliments our guns had hurled at 
them the day before. 

Our fires were banked while we lay at anchor, and the 
stokers appreciating the imminent danger were working like 
mad to get up steam. We were now within some two hun- 
dred yards of the shore, and an ugly black rock some thirty 
feet away poked out its head between the angry-looking 
waves as they swept over it. The Moors, like so many de- 
mons, were dancing with delight on the shore while yelling 
curses at us. No matter how ignorant one is of a savage 
language, there is no need for an interpreter when the 
natives are swearing at a fellow. Night was fast closing in 
on us when at last the engineer reported that there was 



178 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

steam enough to start the engines. The order was given to 
go ahead and the engine was started. Slowly at first, but 
with increasing velocity it relieved the strain on our cables, 
when, just as we had begun to have hopes that we were 
saved, there was a crash in the engine room and we knew 
that the wooden cogs had broken again ! For two hours the 
engineers worked to repair the damage, and fortunately 
during this time the anchors held so well that the ship's 
progress toward destruction was very little, if any. It was 
a long and anxious two hours, and above the roar of the 
wind we could hear the yells of triumph emanating from 
the throats of those black devils waiting for the catastrophe 
which was to put us in their power, to say nothing of the 
loot they expected to get out of the wreck of the ship. At 
last the engine began to revolve again — at first very slowly, 
and we anxiously followed each revolution in mortal dread 
that it would break down again, but as it increased in power 
and took the strain off of our anchors we commenced to 
breathe freely again. Then came the welcome order to 
weigh the port anchor, and after an interval the other was 
also catheaded; but the progress we made away from the 
shore was woefully slow in the teeth of that gale. When day 
at last came we were clear of the danger and well out at sea 
with a clear appreciation of Jack's sympathy in a storm for 
"the poor people ashore in danger of having their heads 
broken by falling tiles from the roofs." It was a most nar- 
row and fortunate escape for us slaveholders, as had we not 
been drowned in the surf, we most assuredly should have 
been either murdered on the shore, or, worse still, sold into 
slavery in accordance with the custom of the Moors in dis- 
posing of their prisoners. Even if our fate had ever become 
known to the outside world, there was no nation on earth 
that would have lifted a voice for our release, save the 
helpless and unrecognized "Confederate States" which 
were already doomed for extinction. 

I have always called this episode "the Confederacy's only 



Arrival at Bordeaux 179 

Foreign War," unless that unfortunate affair with the Patrie 
could be called a hostile event. 

After a stormy voyage we arrived off the mouth of the 
Garonne River, up which stream we steamed and dropped 
anchor in front of the city of Bordeaux. 



CHAPTER XXI 

Bordeaux — U.S.S. Niagara and Sacramento wait outside for us — Two 
fine sloops-of-war intended for the Confederacy lay near, but beyond our 
reach — Escape from the United States men-of-war — Liverpool — A hero at 
last — Georgia put out of commission — Georgia captured by U.S.S. Niagara 
— Last of the Georgia — Men-of-war, privateers, and pirates. 

No sooner was it known that we had arrived at Bordeaux 
than we were informed that the Georgia must leave at the 
expiration of twenty-four hours — but what we did not 
know about dodging neutrality proclamations was not 
worth learning. So on one pretext or another we made our- 
selves comfortable and prepared for an extended visit to 
our unwilling hosts. The Niagara and the Sacramento, two 
formidable men-of-war, were waiting for us at the mouth 
of the river. 

Day after day we gazed on two beautiful new and freshly 
painted sloops-of-war intended to carry ten guns each. They 
lay in the stream only about half a mile from us, and the 
sight was tantalizing, for they belonged to us and had been 
paid for with our money, and there they were, so very near, 
but far beyond our reach, and there we were cooped up in a 
little floating iron pot without speed enough to escape from 
an enemy or strength sufficient to fight one. With boilers 
and engines away above the water line it would have taken 
an expert marksman to hit the Georgia any place except 
in the magazines, boilers, or machinery. The French had 
allowed us to build these formidable ships knowing what 
they were intended for. They had taken our money, and 
now that they were finished, the Government suddenly 
became very punctilious about its neutrality. 

An order had come through the blockade that the 
Georgia, on account of her deficiencies in speed and fighting 
ability, should be put out of commission, and we thought 
we were going to part with the little ship in Bordeaux, but 



Liverpool i8i 

we were mistaken. It was written that we should take one 
more chance in her. We knew that two United States men- 
of-war were lying off the mouth of the Garonne and that 
either of them, if they caught sight of us, would have us at 
their mercy, and we were somewhat surprised when the 
order reached us to proceed to Liverpool before dismantling 
the ship. We got under way very quietly and proceeded 
down the river to a point just out of sight of its mouth and 
there waited for night to shield us from our enemies. It was 
very dark when we passed out of the Garonne and crept by 
the big ships which apparently did not even suspect our 
proximity. We crossed the Bay of Biscay without further 
adventure and entered St. George's Channel where it was 
very foggy. A pilot boat approached us and asked if we 
wanted a pilot. We told him "yes" and at the same time 
hoisted the Confederate flag. When the pilot, who had not 
yet left his boat, saw the colors, he rudely remarked that 
he "would be damned if he would pilot any damned pirate ! " 
— and going about, he disappeared in the fog while express- 
ing the very humane hope that we would pile up on the 
rocks. Despite his kind wishes, however, we safely entered 
the Mersey and dropped anchor off Birkenhead, opposite 
Liverpool, about three o'clock in the afternoon. The anchor 
had barely time to reach the bottom when the captain sent 
for me and said he was going to allow me to go ashore at 
once, as I had friends in Liverpool, but stipulated that I 
should wear my uniform. We had heard that feeling toward 
us had changed and English sympathy, especially among the 
lower classes, was now very much in favor of the North. 
If that was so I did not see any exhibition of it — I have 
always suspected that my captain used me as a trial horse 
to ascertain what sort of a reception awaited us. If that was 
his object, he ought to have felt highly gratified with his 
experiment, for I went alone to a theatre that night, and as 
soon as my gray uniform was noticed a whisper went 
through the audience that the Alabama had arrived in the 



1 82 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

port. Some one proposed three cheers for the Alabama, and 
they were given with a will. The manager of the theatre 
elbowed his way to where I was sitting and asked me to 
accompany him. I thought he was going to put me out, but 
instead of that he escorted me to a box and kindly took a 
seat by me. Every time the curtain went down, the audience 
cheered, not the actors, but the Alabama — and every time 
they cheered the manager would insist that I should stand 
up and bow my acknowledgments of the compliment. After 
the show was over, perfect strangers introduced themselves 
and begged for the honor of my company at supper, but the 
manager, who had taken complete possession of me by this 
time, declined all invitations for me, and carried me off in 
triumph to sup with some of the leading actors and actresses 
of his company, who made much of me. If I was not a hero 
I was at least conspicuous on this occasion, and what does 
a hero go heroing for if it is not to be flattered by such 
receptions as this one was? 

On the loth of May, 1864, the little Georgia was warped 
into the Birkenhead dock. All hands were summoned to 
the quarter-deck for the last time. Our captain read his 
orders to put the ship out of commission. At the word of 
command, the Confederate flag, proudly flying at the peak, 
the Union Jack on the bowsprit, and the commander's 
pennant at the masthead, all came fluttering down to- 
gether — and the cruise of the Georgia had passed into 
history. She was a poor miserable little tin kettle of a craft, 
but I loved her. I too was poor, and nothing much to brag 
of, and despite the fact that my life, as the youngest of her 
officers, and the only one of my grade, had been very 
lonely, still she had been the only home I had known for 
thirteen months and had borne me safely through many 
dangers and over thirty-three thousand miles of water. 
We bade good-bye to our shipmates — many of us never 
to meet again, and now (1916) I believe myself to be the 
only survivor of the officers of the lucky little cruiser. 



Last of the Georgia 183 

The Georgia was dismantled and sold to an Englishman 
by the name of Jones, who, in good faith, fitted her out as 
a merchantman and entered into a contract with the Por- 
tuguese Government to carry the mails between Lisbon 
and the Cape Verde Islands. When she arrived off the 
mouth of the Tagus intending to take on board the Lisbon 
mails, she was captured by the U.S.S. Niagara, her old 
pursuer, and sent to the United States as a prize. Her owner 
never again saw his ship or his money. 

Once again I saw the Georgia — in 1866. On this occa- 
sion she was lying at a wharf in Charleston Harbor being 
loaded with cotton. I don't believe she had been painted 
since I left her in Liverpool and she looked like any other 
dirty old tramp steamer. I asked her mate if the wooden 
cogs ever gave him any trouble, and he replied, "Only 
when she gets us in a tight place in bad weather, or we 
are trying to avoid a collision." In 1867 the Georgia was 
wrecked on the rocky coast of the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
where her iron bones slowly rusted away. 

The damage done to the North by these little cruisers 
should not be estimated simply by the number of ships 
they captured, for it should be remembered that for every 
ship burned hundreds took shelter under neutral flags 
never to return to the American mercantile marine. No 
country ever erected so many monuments to its soldiers 
as can be seen in the Southern States, and yet there is not 
a single memorial to the Confederate Navy. If the object 
of war is to inflict damage on the enemy, how stands the 
account between the army and navy of the South? Twice 
the Southern armies invaded the territory of the North, 
and on each occasion were hurled back across the Potomac 
before they had had time to spy out the richness of their 
foe's land. It is true that they fought valiantly and killed 
many brave Northerner's and more German mercenaries, 
but the loss of these men did not affect the conquerors in 
the least as they swept through the fair Southern land with 



1 84 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

fire and sword. But the Confederate Navy struck the 
North such a vital blow, by destroying their mercantile 
marine, that although half a century has elapsed since the 
scenes I have tried to describe took place, the United 
States has not yet, and will not for many years to come, 
recover her former lucrative carrying trade on the high 
seas. 

The Southern naval officer has never been able to under- 
stand why his compatriots always refer to the Alabama 
and her consorts as "privateers." Why privateers? A 
privateer is a vessel belonging to private parties, as its 
name implies. She is provided with a "letter of marque" 
authorizing her to prey on ships belonging to an enemy, 
and also to protect her against being treated as a pirate. 
A privateersman is a fellow with all the instincts of a pirate, 
but without the courage to hoist the "Jolly Roger." 

A man-of-war is a national ship, a sort of floating fortress, 
belonging to a government. Her officers hold commissions 
under that government, and her crew are shipped regu- 
larly in exactly the same way soldiers are mustered into 
the army on land. Her officers take prizes or burn ships 
only in obedience to orders which they are sworn to obey 
and not for the object of enriching themselves. 

In the North the Confederate cruisers are always spoken 
of as damnpirates, as though it was one word. Why? These 
ships were regularly commissioned by a de facto govern- 
ment to whom they belonged, and were officered by men 
who, with rare exceptions, were the product of the United 
States Naval Academy. The crews were regularly enlisted 
men. As a man-of-warsman is simply a soldier who fights 
on the water, how came it that I was a pirate on the Georgia 
and became a regular Confederate naval officer when at- 
tached to a naval battery on shore? Was it because of the 
boat and the water? If so, did the armies of Lee and John- 
ston become pirates and deserve the hangman's noose every 
time they crossed a river on a pontoon bridge or waded a 



The " Damnpirates " 185 

creek? Why should a man who cannot restrain patriotic 
cheers whenever he hears a band play "Marching through 
Georgia," yell with rage and indignation when the destruc- 
tion wrought by the Southern cruisers is mentioned? Is the 
use of the torch in war so much more reprehensible on the 
water than it is on land? 

Some day, it is to be hoped, an unbiased history will be 
written which will give full credit to the Confederate Navy, 
not only for the gallant manner in which it bore itself 
in action, but also for the wonderful resourcefulness dis- 
played by its officers, who, when the "bonnie blue flag 
was hoisted on high," found that their navy consisted 
of one burned frigate, and what was left of her was sunk 
alongside of the navy-yard dock at Norfolk. This wreck 
they, by original designs of their own, converted into the 
formidable ironclad ram Virginia. The only thing about 
her that never would stick was her name, as the people. 
North and South, never would call her by any other name 
than the Merrimac. History, when truly written, will also 
tell how those Southern naval officers went with their men 
into the forests with axes and cut down trees and hewed 
out timbers with which they built gunboats, and how these 
same men went through the country gathering old rails and 
scrap-iron with which they armored those boats and called 
them ironclads; and above all, how they fought these make- 
shift men-of-war after they built them. It will also tell 
how the C.S.S. Manassas, an old tugboat, was converted 
into an ironclad ram and was the first craft of that charac- 
ter used in war to ram an enemy. It will also tell how the 
Confederates were the first to use the torpedo boat, the 
submarine boat, and floating and stationary mines in actual 
war, and how they built and nearly finished the ironclad 
Mississippi at New Orleans, certainly the first warship 
with three screws ever built in America. 

After Norfolk was evacuated, the South had no navy 
yard. The Albemarle and Arkansas, ironclads, were built 



1 86 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

in cornfields, and other formidable ironclads were built 
between wharves at Charleston and elsewhere. For artil- 
lery they had only obsolete guns that had been left at the 
Norfolk navy yard at the commencement of the war. Lieu- 
tenant Brook, C.S.N. , made a gun which was regarded 
by both sides as the most formidable weapon in use at that 
time. It was the irony of fate that the United States Gov- 
ernment, which had branded the Confederate cruisers as 
"pirates on the high seas," should have built among the 
first ships of its new navy (after the war) two "commerce 
destroyers," the Columbia and the Minneapolis, ships of 
great speed and cruising radius, and with little or no light- 
ing power. 



CHAPTER XXII 

Paris — Alabama sunk by Kearsarge — Havre — Southampton — Ordered 
to return to the Confederacy — Halifax — Sail for Bermuda and passengers 
mistake us for pirates — St. George's, Bermuda — Take passage in the block- 
ade-runner Lillian — Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah and have narrow escape 
running through blockading fleet off Wilmington. 

While dawdling in Paris in the month of June, 1864, 
waiting for ships that were never to materialize, at least 
for our purposes, we were startled one day by the news 
that the Alabama had arrived in the port of Cherbourg, 
and that the U.S. sloop-of-war Kearsarge was waiting out- 
side for her. We knew at once that there was going to be 
a fight, and so confident were we that the Alabama would 
win that among ourselves we decided that the Kearsarge 
must not be crippled too severely, but that the Alabama 
with her superior speed was to run alongside of her antag- 
onist and carry her by boarding, and then turn her into a 
Confederate cruiser. So confident were we that we selected 
the officers for the new addition to our navy. But we had 
not taken into account the fact that the Alabama had not 
been in a drydock in more than two years and that her 
copper hung to her bottom in elbows, which greatly re- 
tarded her speed. Well, the fight came off and the Kear- 
sarge, which was not a fast ship, proved that she could 
run two knots to the Alabama's one, in her then condition. 
She took up her own position at a distance which suited 
her and the world knows the result. 

As soon as the unpalatable news of the result of the 
battle reached Paris, we were ordered to get out of the city 
at once and to scatter. I went to Havre, where I received 
orders to proceed to Southampton, and report to Com- 
mander Kell, the former executive officer of the Alabama, 
who would give me further instructions. 

At Southampton I found, among other officers who had 



1 88 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

been saved from a watery grave by the English yacht 
Deerhound when the Alabama went down, Becket Howell, 
a brother of Mrs. Jefferson Davis, who was a lieutenant 
of marines, and Midshipmen Anderson and Maffitt, and I 
spent several days with them wandering around the curious 
old English town, the observed of all the observers, who 
seemed to take great delight in calling attention to the 
"pirates." 

With Commander Kell I went from Southampton to 
Liverpool, where we were joined by several other officers 
who were going to make the attempt to run the blockade. 
Among them was Lieutenant R. T. Chapman, who had been 
executive officer of the Georgia when she was first placed 
in commission. Mr. Chapman was now entrusted with a 
special mission to take the great seal of the Confederate 
States, which had recently been completed in London, to 
Richmond. Lieutenant Evans, who had been the last com- 
mander of the Georgia, Lieutenant Campbell, who had taken 
the Rappahannock out of the Thames, Lieutenants Ingra- 
ham and King, and Passed Midshipman Walker were also 
in the party. 

We took passage in the Cunarder Africa plying between 
Liverpool and Boston, stopping at Halifax, Nova Scotia, on 
her way. Naturally it was more conducive to the health 
and longevity of our party to get off at Halifax. The voyage 
was a rough one, and the old paddlewheel tub was crowded 
with Yanks who scowled at us in a very unfriendly way. 

As we entered the harbor of Halifax, Commander Kell 
said that, as I had been there before and knew the town, I 
must jump ashore the instant the ship touched the dock and 
run to the hotel and engage rooms for the party. It was 
twilight when I reached the hostelry, and there was standing 
behind the counter a man in a dress suit reading a letter. 
I asked him whether or not we could get accommodations, 
but he took no notice of me. I am afraid I repeated my 
inquiry in rather a peremptory manner, for he turned and 



Sail for Bermuda 189 

left the office, saying as he departed, "Young man, I am not 
a waiter in this establishment!" At that moment the clerk 
arrived with a horrified expression on his face and told me 
that I had made a dreadful mistake, that the gentleman was 
Mr. Cyrus W. Field (who had laid the first Atlantic cable) 
and that he was waiting for his carriage to go to the Govern- 
ment House where Lord Mulgrave, the governor-general, 
was giving a dinner in his honor that evening ! 

After a couple of days' stay in Halifax we took passage 
on a small British steamer called the Alpha which plied on 
the line between Halifax, Bermuda, and St. Thomas, West 
Indies. She was crowded with passengers, but they were 
not disposed to be friendly with us. Doubtless they had 
become prejudiced by reading about "pirates" in yellow- 
back novels. We kept entirely to ourselves. 

In the early mornings we would gather on the little poop 
deck and pass away the time until the gong sounded for 
breakfast, when we would fall in behind Commander Kell, 
according to rank, and in Indian file walk into the saloon 
and take our seats. Commander Kell was a most command- 
ing figure, being six feet three or four inches in height. When 
he sailed from New Orleans in the Sumter three years pre- 
viously, he had determined to let his beard grow until he 
saw his wife again. It now reached to his waist and flowed 
over his breast like a waterfall — it was very red. He al- 
lowed only his intimates to see it, however, as he kept it 
plaited and stuck down his shirt collar. Ordinarily his 
beard looked to be about three inches long with the ends all 
turned in under his chin. One morning we were seated as 
usual on the poop when Commander Kell produced from the 
inner recesses of his shirt front the wonderful beard and 
proceeded to comb it out. Before he had finished the intri- 
cate operation the gong sounded, and with his habitual con- 
sideration for others, he said that he would not keep us 
from our breakfasts while he put up his extraordinary hir- 
sute adornment, and he led the way to the saloon with his 



190 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

great red beard flowing over his manly chest. As he entered 
the door the passengers were all seated at the breakfast 
tables, and to our great consternation some idiot screamed 
out, "The pirates are going to take us!" Then followed a 
scene I shall never forget. Men dove under the tables and 
the women fell on their knees and begged for mercy. As for 
us — we were simply scared into speechlessness. It was 
Commander Kell's beard that had caused the fright — the 
passengers jumping to the conclusion that there were other 
pirates secreted on the ship, and that the time to take her 
and make them walk the plank had arrived. The captain 
of the Alpha rushed aft to find out what had happened, and 
even he did not recognize Commander Kell at first. Of 
course there was a hearty laugh when the mystery of the 
beard was explained, and we were all much better friends 
for the rest of the voyage. 

At St. George, Bermuda, our party was divided and took 
passage on several of the blockade-runners then lying in the 
harbor. Lieutenants Campbell, Ingraham, King, and my- 
self (the midshipman) went on board the Lillian commanded 
by as big a braggart and blowhard as ever commanded a 
ship. 

It was in the month of July, 1864, and by this time the 
blockade of the Southern coast was so complete that to get 
into a Southern port it was necessary to elude the United 
States war-vessels three separate times on each trip. 
Around the Bermuda Islands cruisers hovered to catch 
their prey when the blockade-runner was only a few miles 
from the neutral port, either coming or going. About fifty 
miles off the Southern coast other cruisers awaited them, 
and of course the channels leading into the Southern har- 
bors were closely guarded. We passed out of the narrow and 
tortuous channel, which connects the harbor of St. George 
and the sea, in daylight, and then lingered near the shore 
until night shrouded our movements when we started at 
full speed for Wilmington, North Carolina, and soon ran 



The Blockade-runner Lillian 191 

into some very foul weather. The Lillian was a very small 
paddlewheel steamer whose deck was not more than three 
or four feet above the water line, and she drew only between 
seven and eight feet of water. In heavy seas she labored so 
that she spent about as much time under the water as she 
did on top of it — reminding one of the sailor's commentary 
on the verse of the Bible about "Those who go down to the 
sea in ships see the wonders of the Lord": "That may be 
true about full-rigged ships," said the sailor: "but I can tell 
the fellow who wrote it that them as go to sea in barks, 
brigs, schooners, or other small craft, they see hell!" 

We floundered across the Gulf Stream, and on the after- 
noon of the night we expected to make our dash through the 
blockading fleet, and while we were still distant some fifty 
miles from the Cape Fear River, a big, bark-rigged, steam 
sloop-of-war, which we afterwards learned was the U.S.S. 
Shenandoah, caught sight of us and gave chase. 

The captain, when in his cups, would swear by all the 
gods of the sea that the little Lillian could run seventeen 
knots an hour, but we were to witness the phenomenon of a 
heavy man-of-war, that could not make more than nine or 
ten knots at most, gain rapidly on us, as our fool captain 
persisted in steering a course which permitted of the war- 
ship carrying all of her immense spread of sail. Our captain 
went below and stowed several big drinks of brandy under 
his vest, and then, coming on deck, in a spirit of braggadocio, 
hoisted the Confederate flag. Mr. Campbell ordered us to 
go below and put on our uniforms and side arms, as we 
wished to be captured, if captured we had to be, as officers 
of the Confederate Navy. 

Returning to the quarter-deck we awaited developments. 
The warship still steadily gained. Within an hour from the 
time she sighted us she fired a shot. We naval officers knew 
that she was only trying to get the range, as we saw the 
projectile fall short several hundred yards from us, but our 
captain thought that was the best she could do, and with 



192 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

his habitual swagger he mounted to the little bridge which 
reached from one little paddlebox to the other, and from 
that point of vantage he looked down on us and in the most 
dramatic manner said, "I want you naval officers to know 
that I am captain of her as long as a plank will float ! " Just 
then the Shenandoah, having got the range, sent a scream- 
ing rifled projectile through both paddleboxes, the shot pass- 
ing only a foot or two under the bridge on which the captain 
was standing. With a yell of dismay he threw up his hands 
and came scampering down the ladder, screaming, "Haul 
that flag down. I will not have any more lives sacrificed !" 
Nothing besides the paddleboxes had as yet been touched 
unless we except the captain's yellow streak. Lieutenant 
Campbell walked to the taffrail, a distance of some ten feet 
from where he had been standing, and took up a position 
alongside the little flagstaff from which the Confederate 
colors were fluttering. Laying his hand on the flag halyards 
he quietly said: "Captain, if you want to give up this boat, 
turn her over to me. I will not allow you to surrender her. 
These officers are branded as pirates, and according to Pres- 
ident Lincoln's proclamation may be hung if captured." 
Just then the man-of-war yawed and let fly her whole broad- 
side, cutting the Lillian up considerably. The captain looked 
dazed for a moment, but was brought out of his mental 
stupor by a shot from a rifled gun which grazed the top of 
one of the boilers letting the steam out with a roar. The 
engine-room force rushed on deck and gathered around us. 
The captain bolted for the booby hatch leading down into 
the cabin, stopping only long enough to say: "I told the 
agent in Bermuda how it would be if he forced me to take a 
lot of pirates on board. If you are going to take my ship 
away from me, take her!" — and disappeared below. Mr. 
Campbell, as cool as though nothing extraordinary was 
taking place, turned to us and said, "Kill the first man 
who touches those flag halyards." 

The chief engineer, a game little fellow, informed Mr. 



Chased by U.S.S. Shenandoah 193 

Campbell that the boilers could be disconnected from each 
other, a precaution against just such an accident as had 
happened, and that the boat, with the immense pressure of 
steam she was carrying, would run until the steam from 
the injured boiler cooled off sufficiently to allow the stokers 
to return to their duties. He added that he had been a 
prisoner once in Fort Lafayette and had no desire to return 
there. The crew gallantly cheered his remarks. 

All this time the Shenandoah was yawing first to star- 
board and then to port, apparently so certain that she had 
us that she was amusing her crew at target practice. Mr. 
Campbell went into the pilot house and took command 
of the Lillian. The first order he gave changed our course 
so that the man-of-war had to take in her sails, and after 
that we appeared to be holding our own in the contest of 
speed. Shots continued to fly over and around us, occa- 
sionally one striking the frail sides causing the splinters to 
fly as it passed through. The shells were bursting and their 
fragments whistling all around us. We were dripping wet 
from the spray thrown up by projectiles which hit the 
water alongside. In the midst of it all Mr. Campbell 
ordered me to go down into the cabin and report to him 
what the captain was doing. I reported: "Captain in his 
berth dead drunk with an empty bottle of brandy beside 
him." 

All this time Lieutenant Campbell was edging the LiK 
Han in toward the land which we sighted between sundown 
and dark, and how we did pray that night would come 
soon. With our light draft we continued the "edging-in" 
maneuvre until the heavy man-of-war, drawing some 
eighteen or twenty feet of water, had to change her course 
for fear of striking the bottom. She hauled to the south- 
ward with the object of heading us off from Wilmington, 
from which port we were far to the northward by this 
time. We had to change our course to the southward, 
giving the broadside of the Shenandoah a fine target as 



194 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

we steamed in parallel lines down the coast, the Lillian 
being so close into the beach that she was rolling on the 
curlers of the outer line of surf. Night at last came to our 
relief, — or at least we thought it did, — when to our 
amazement two columns of flame about thirty feet high 
shot up out of our little smokestacks! This gave the war- 
ship a fine target to exercise her crew in night practice, 
of which she at once took advantage. Our engineer ex- 
plained that to get more steam he had caused half a dozen 
bottles of turpentine to be thrown into the furnaces. The 
beacon soon expended its energy, however, and without 
further molestation we continued on our way to Wilming- 
ton. 

We had hopes of reaching the bar before daylight, and 
thus elude the vigilance of the blockading fleet, but luck 
and the speed of the Lillian were against us. Day broke 
when we were still a couple of miles away and the fleet at 
once saw us and opened fire. We had no choice but to go 
on, as the last few shovelfuls of coal on board were then 
being tossed into the furnaces. Fortunately none of the 
shots touched our remaining boiler or machinery. There 
was one small gunboat right in our path, inside of the bar, 
and very close to Fort Fisher. The people in the fort and 
on the gunboat must have been asleep. Lieutenant Camp- 
bell ordered the man at the wheel to steer for her, saying 
that she was so near the fort that she would not dare fire, 
as Fort Fisher would blow her out of the water if she did. 
He was right — for when she saw us coming she slipped 
her cable and scampered ofif without firing a shot, and a 
few minutes afterwards we dropped our anchor in safety 
under the sheltering guns of the famous fortress. 

The rattling of the chain cable, when the anchor was 
dropped, had awakened our captain from his drunken 
sleep, and he shortly appeared on deck looking very sheep- 
ish, but the arrival of several officers from the fort soon 
caused him to resume his swaggering air. Resuming his 



Running the Blockade 195 

r61e as captain he received them at the gangway, and the 
first one who stepped on to the deck seized his hand and 
exclaimed, "Well done, captain! that was the most daring 
dash through the blockade we have yet witnessed!" The 
captain modestly replied, "Oh, it is nothing; we have to 
take some chances in our business, you know!" And Lieu- 
tenant Campbell, standing a few feet away, never said a 
word. 

The captain invited the army officers (but none of us) 
into his cabin and opened champagne. Champagne at six 
o'clock in the morning had no terrors for a Confederate 
soldier. This same captain, after the damages to the Lil- 
lian had been repaired at Wilmington, loaded her with 
cotton, and started out again. He stopped and surrendered 
her when the first shot was fired and before any damage 
had been done. From a blockade-runner the Lillian was 
converted into a United States blockader. 

As the Lillian was being made fast to the wharf at Wil- 
mington, two men on the wharf became involved in a diffi- 
culty and, according to the custom of the country, drew 
their revolvers and began to shoot. One of them fell and 
floundered around on the planks like a chicken with its 
neck half wrung. Lieutenant Campbell patriotically ex- 
claimed, "My own, my native land! Now I am sure that I 
am home again!" 

In his report to the Navy Department concerning the 
chase of the Lillian, Captain Ridgely, U.S.N., command- 
ing the Shenandoah, says: — 

Sir: — 

At 4 P.M. made another blockade-runner in latitude 36.34. 
N., Longitude 76.33. W., steering to the northward and west- 
ward. We made chase and overhauled her quite fast. She only 
escaped by darkness and running into shoal water. We fired 140 
shots at her, and I think some of them took effect. He was a bold 
blockade-runner and flew the rebel flag as long as we could see 
him, . . .^ 

^ See Rebellion Records, vol. 10. 



196 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Abstract of log of U.S.S. Shenandoah: — 

Saturday, July 30th, 1864 — At 3.45 p.m. sighted a steamer 
burning black smoke to the eastward; made all sail in chase. At 
4.30 P.M. made stranger out to be a double smokestack, side- 
wheel steamer, apparently a blockade-runner, standing to the 
northward and westward. At 5.45, he showed rebel colors. Called 
the first division and powder division to quarters and began to 
fire at her with the 30 and 150 pounder rifled Parrott. At 6 p.m. 
beat to quarters and fired all the divisions. At 7 p.m. took in fore- 
topgallantsail and foresail. At 7.30 took in foretopsail. 

During the chase fired 70 rounds from 30 pounder Parrott, 
53 rounds from 150 pounder Parrott, 18 rounds from XI inch 
guns, and one round from 24 pounder howitzer. . . . ^ 

After his capture the captain of the Lillian in answer to 
the questions of the examining officer gave the following 
version of the chase : — 

My name is Daniel Martin, a native of Liverpool, England. 
Was three weeks at Wilmington repairing boiler injured in chase. 
The Confederate colors were hoisted by some of the passen- 
gers. . . } 

* See Naval War Records. ' See Naval War Records. 



CHAPTER XXIII 

Shells dropping in the grass-grown streets of Charleston, South Carolina 
— Mr. Trenholm is Secretary of the Confederate Treasury — Columbia — Mr. 
Trenholm's beautiful villa — Go to Richmond and ask the millionaire Secre- 
tary for the hand of his daughter — Mrs. Trenholm calls on Mrs. (?) Stephens. 

At Wilmington I went to a wretched little cottage which 
sheltered several naval officers who were stationed in the 
town. I thought our condition in the Confederacy was 
bad enough when I had left its shores two years before, 
but these officers had literally nothing in the way of cloth- 
ing besides their shabby uniforms, threadbare and patched. 
I felt ashamed of my new uniform, made by a fashionable 
London tailor, and my well-laundered white shirt, so I 
moved my trunk into the centre of the room and insisted 
on a divide of its contents. I had just come from a land of 
plenty and I had come in an empty ship, and these brave 
fellows were suffering for the simplest necessities. The for- 
eign owners of blockade-runners no longer brought cloth- 
ing or provisions into the stricken country, as they had 
found it more profitable to bring only a little gold with 
which they could buy all the depreciated Confederate cur- 
rency they wanted to buy cotton with. Only the boats 
engaged in the risky business which belonged to the Con- 
federate Government, and those belonging to Fraser, 
Trenholm & Co. and one or two other Southerners, ever 
brought cargoes into the blockaded ports any more. The 
foreigner wanted cotton, and if he could get that for his 
gold the sufferings of our people did not interest him. I 
never could understand why President Davis never issued 
a proclamation forbidding an empty blockade-runner en- 
tering our ports. 

I had been only a few hours in Wilmington when I re- 
ceived the usual order in such cases, to proceed to my 
home, notify the Secretary of the Navy as to my address, 



198 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and to there await orders. I had no home — so I deter- 
mined to go to Charleston and notify the Secretary from 
there. Arriving in Charleston I stepped on to the platform 
and boldly asked for a cab. My modest request was greeted 
with laughter by the few loafers who were there assembled. 
If the negro cabmen had not gone to the front, their horses 
had. Knowing my way, however, I left my baggage at the 
station and started on the long walk to Mr. Trenholm's 
office which was located on one of the wharves. I soon 
found myself in the deserted part of the city where the 
shells were falling. I passed through King Street to Went- 
worth and followed the latter street to Meeting. Ruin 
was on every side of me: the grass in the street was above 
my knees; not a human being was to be seen. I turned into 
the battered public market to take advantage of the shade 
afforded by the roofs of its dilapidated sheds and because 
no grass was growing under them — not even a turkey 
buzzard disputed my right of way, as they were in the 
habit of doing before and after the war, in that particular 
locality. My surroundings were not cheerful and my 
gloomy thoughts were not dispelled by the bursting of a 
shell from the historic "Swamp Angel" and the whirring 
of its fragments which passed unpleasantly close to me. 

Arriving at the wharves, to my surprise I found a battery 
erected within a few feet of the entrance to what once had 
been Mr. Trenholm's counting-house. As I approached, a 
sentry appeared suddenly from out of the ground and per- 
emptorily ordered me to halt. I naively told him I wanted 
to see Mr. Trenholm, which information seemed to arouse 
his suspicions, and he called for the corporal of the guard, 
who informed me that he had never heard of Mr. Tren- 
holm. But as I had some official documents in my pocket 
I very soon convinced him that I was harmless and he al- 
lowed me to retire. I passed up East Bay Street to Broad 
and saw the old City Hall (used as a post-office). It was 
riddled by shells. It was from the porch of this building 



Secretary of the Treasury Trenholm 199 

that Washington had addressed the people of Charleston 
when he visited that city. At the corner of Broad and 
Meeting Streets I passed by the old colonial church "St. 
Michael's," the rear wall of which had been smashed in 
and great holes were to be seen in the standing walls, which 
had been and were still being bombarded. About every 
ten minutes a shell was bursting some place in the neigh- 
borhood. I passed on through the burned district, going 
uptown, and again found myself in the inhabited portion 
of the city. Many Charlestonians who had taken refuge 
in the upper part of the city, so as to be out of range of the 
shells, when the bombardment first began, returned to 
their residences near the battery when longer-range guns 
began to disturb them uptown, and in comparative com- 
fort let the enemy shoot over their heads. In war times 
one can get accustomed to anything. At last I met a civil- 
ian who was very civil and gave me the information I 
wanted. He told me that Mr. Trenholm was no longer in 
Charleston, but was now Secretary of the Confederate 
Treasury and had gone to Richmond; but that he could 
show me where I would find his brother-in-law and partner, 
Mr. Theodore Wagner, and that the business office was 
in a residence on Rutledge Avenue. When I found Mr. 
Wagner he was very kind to me, but he seemed to be in 
an awful hurry, and hustled me into a buggy, saying it 
was the only vehicle of the kind in the city. I asked where 
we were going, and after we started he told me we were 
going to the railway station as fast as possible, as I barely 
had time to catch the train; that Mr. Trenholm had in- 
structed him to send me at once to his home in the suburbs 
of Columbia, if I got through the blockade safely. 

I had brought a trunk with me that Midshipman Ander- 
son had asked me to forward to his family in Savannah, and 
Mr. Wagner kindly attended to the matter for me. I was 
afterwards informed that when Anderson's family received 
it, and an accompanying letter, they had been mourning 



200 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

for him for some weeks. It happened that in the fight with 
the Kearsarge a man on the deck of the Alabama was cut 
completely in two by a shell, and the upper half of his body 
was hurled through the air striking Anderson on the head. 
Some of the crew of the Alabama, who were saved by either 
the Kearsarge or the French pilot boat, had reported that 
Midshipman Anderson had had his head blown off, and this 
story reached the Confederacy before I did. 

It took me fifteen hours to reach Columbia, as trains in 
the Confederacy were not allowed to run faster than ten 
miles an hour and rarely attempted a disobedience of the 
law where the speed limit was concerned, and their inter- 
minable waits on the sidings were enough to try the patience 
of a saint, to say nothing of that of a midshipman. 

Arriving at Columbia I was met at the station by Colonel 
Trenholm, his beautiful young wife, and his sister, the young 
lady I had two years previously presumptuously made up my 
mind to marry. Colonel Trenholm apologized for not alight- 
ing to meet me when the train arrived, giving as an excuse 
the fact that he could not walk, as he had been shot through 
the hips in one of the battles near Richmond. I was invited 
to get into the handsomely appointed landau (the Govern- 
ment had not seized Mr. Trenholm's horses, I suppose be- 
cause he was a member of the Cabinet), and we drove to a 
beautiful villa, situated a short distance outside of the city 
limits, where I was most hospitably welcomed by the rest 
of the family. 

"De Greffin" was the name of the villa, and besides a 
most lovable and happy family it contained many paintings 
and objects of art. In front of the house was a garden some 
half-acre in extent enclosed by a handsome balustrade, and 
at each corner was a vine-clad summer house. Flowers were 
blooming in profusion in the garden and on a succession of 
terraces which reached down to a little stream. As Mr. 
Trenholm was one of the largest owners of blockade- 
runners, of course the house was provided with every luxury 



My Mission to Richmond 201 

and a most lavish hospitality was dispensed. A continual 
stream of guests constantly came and went, and the young 
people gathered there in flocks. Of course we danced, — 
Southerners in that day always danced when two or three 
were gathered together, — if only three, one would play 
the piano and the other two would dance. When we tired 
of dancing there were always the terraces and the moonlight, 
and the grand old trees under which we could stroll or sit 
and rest. There were saddle horses to ride in the mornings 
and carriages to take us driving in the afternoons, and the 
numerous servants who wanted to wait on us were in one 
another's way. After a blissful week of this life I decided 
that I had to go to Richmond. But one other person knew 
the nature of the business which called me there, but the 
incidents attending my mission were so characteristic of 
the manner in which a midshipman of that day would act 
in a serious matter that I must tell the story. 

It took three or four days to go from Columbia to Rich- 
mond, the exact time not being important so far as the rail- 
way officials were concerned. Mr. Trenholm was staying at 
the house of some friends while waiting until his own house 
should be prepared for the reception of his family. I arrived 
in Richmond after dark and went at once to the address 
which had been given me. I had grown nine inches since 
I had last seen Mr. Trenholm, and I feared he would not 
recognize me. Arriving at the house I found several ladies 
and gentlemen seated on the piazza. I asked for Mr. Tren- 
holm, and a tall, stately gentleman arose and came forward 
to greet me. I said that I was afraid he did not remember 
me, but he assured me in his hearty manner that he recol- 
lected me perfectly, and asked me to be seated. I thanked 
him and told him that I wanted to speak with him very 
particularly in private, and he showed the way into the 
drawing-room (where we were alone) and then he asked 
what he could do for me. I promptly replied that I had come 
to ask his consent to my marriage with his daughter, Miss 



202 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Helen. Mr.Trenholm seemed startled, and exclaimed, "My 
dear young gentleman, I have not the slightest idea who you 
are!" When I told him my name, he said that it was diffi- 
cult for him to realize that I was ''Little'' Morgan, as I had 
grown so much. An amused expression passed over his 
countenance, which embarrassed me, for I was in deadly 
earnest and did not see anything funny in the interview 
then. It had never occurred to me that others would have 
smiled at the idea of a penniless little rebel "reefer" asking 
the Secretary of the Treasury, the man who owned steam- 
ships, railroads, hotels, city houses, cotton presses, wharves, 
plantations, and thousands of slaves, for the hand of his 
daughter! Mr. Trenholm was a most kindly and sympa- 
thetic gentleman, and seeing my embarrassment, at once 
proceeded to treat my proposition seriously. He first asked 
me if I did not think his daughter and myself both very 
young to enter into such a serious engagement; but I nipped 
that objection in the bud by saying that I might be killed 
before the end of the war, and asking him where I would 
. be then. He frankly admitted that he did not know. With 
a twinkle in his eye he asked me what the pay of a midship- 
man was. I told him that just at that time it was forty 
dollars a month, but that as soon as I received my orders 
to a ship it would be forty-five (Confederate money was then 
at a discount of a hundred for one). After a pause he told 
me that his daughter's choice would be his. I think he was 
going to say something else, but I jumped to my feet and 
interrupted him by saying, "Good-bye." He asked where I 
was going, and I told him I had just time to catch the train 
for Columbia, and dashed out of the house. 

When I arrived at "De Greffin" with my good news, I 
was welcomed and ever afterwards treated as one of the 
family. But my stay in that delightful atmosphere was of 
short duration, as a few days after my arrival I escorted 
Mrs. Trenholm and her daughters to Richmond, where they 
were to make their home for an indefinite period. 



Vice-President Stephens 203 

On arriving in Richmond, of course, it was incumbent on 
Mrs. Trenholm to call on the wife of the President and the 
ladies of the Cabinet, and one of her calls afforded us in- 
tense amusement. Mrs. Trenholm had not met any of these 
ladies previously and knew nothing of the domestic affairs 
of the members of the social circle of which she was now to 
be a member. After calling on Mrs. Davis she thought it 
proper to call at the residence of the Vice-President, the 
Honorable Alexander Stephens. She rang the bell and the 
door was opened by Mr. Stephens's old negro body-servant, 
who had been with his master for many years and who 
accompanied him everywhere. Mrs. Trenholm asked the 
old darky if Mrs. Stephens was at home, and the old fel- 
low's eyes fairly bulged out of his head. "Mam," he said, 
" Mr. Stephens ain't married. My God! did you ever see 
him?" Needless to add that Mr. Stephens was far from be- 
ing a handsome man — he was very diminutive in size and 
it seemed marvelous that so frail a little body could bear 
the weight of so gigantic an intellect. Besides, he had 
always been an invalid and looked like an animated corpse. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

"Pride goeth before a fall" — Humiliated and sent to school — A realistic 
war college — Call a commander "My man," and order him forward — 
Assault on Fort Harrison — General Lee appears on the battle-field — Re- 
pulsed — I prove to be something of a sprinter. 

*' Pride goeth before a fall," I fear that the dignity of 
being an engaged man caused my chest to enlarge dispro- 
portionately to my rank. I received my orders, and instead 
of being sent to an ironclad I was ordered to report on b9ard 
of the schoolship Patrick Henry to be examined for promo- 
tion. Most of my classmates had been nominally taken out 
of active service and put to school while I was at sea, and 
they were now passed midshipmen. I had not opened a 
schoolbook since I had left Annapolis, and the result was 
that I failed to pass. But I was given another chance and 
had to begin school again. Although I did not know it, if 
there was one thing that I needed more than anything else, 
it was a little schooling. 

The Patrick Henry was a small sidewheel seagoing steamer 
with a walking-beam engine and a brigantine rig. She had 
formerly belonged to the "Old Dominion" line running 
between New York and Norfolk. She had been converted 
into a man-of-war by having ten guns put on board of her 
and she had played quite a conspicuous part in the naval 
battles in Hampton Roads. She had now become the most 
realistic war college that ever existed. She was anchored in 
front of Drewry's BlufT, Richmond's principal defense on 
the James River, which is situated seven miles below the 
city. The reason for her being located there was that the 
** school" was expected to sink itself in the channel between 
the obstructions in case the enemy's ironclads tried to force 
a passage by the land batteries. One always associates a 
collegiate institution with peace and quiet, but this naval 
college was located in the midst of the booming guns. Below 



A Realistic War College 205 

Drewry's Bluff, on the south side of the river, were the naval 
land batteries of Wood, Brooke, Semmes, and Howlett, and 
on the other side of the river were the Federal batteries of 
Bohler, Signal Hill, Crow's Nest, and the Dutch Gap bat- 
teries; and when they all broke loose together the din they 
made was not conducive to that peaceful repose so prized 
by all students. 

There were about sixty young midshipmen on the 
Patrick Henry, varying in age from fourteen to seventeen. 
Their jackets were made out of very coarse gray cloth and 
the food they had to eat was, at first, revolting to me. The 
menu offered little variety. If it was not a tiny lump of fat 
pork, it was a shaving of fresh meat as tough as the hide 
which had once covered it, with a piece of hardtack and a 
tin cup of hot water colored by chicory or grains of burned 
corn, ground up, and brevetted coffee. But no one kicked 
about the food, as it was as good if not better than that the 
poor soldiers in the trenches received. The James River 
furnished a capital article of chills and fever — not malaria, 
but the good old-fashioned kind with the shivers which 
made the teeth chatter and burning fever to follow. On an 
average about one half of the midshipmen went through 
this disagreeable experience every other day. No one was 
allowed to go on the sick-list on account of chills and fever; 
one was, however, allowed to lie down on the bare deck 
while the chill was on, but had to return to duty as soon as 
the paroxysm was over. 

Lieutenant William H. Parker, who had been a professor 
of seamanship at Annapolis, was the superintendent of this 
extraordinary naval academy, and he was assisted by two 
or three navy lieutenants and a like number of civilian pro- 
fessors. There were on the hurricane deck and between the 
paddleboxes two little recitation rooms, and on top of these 
rooms were posted signalmen who from daylight to dark 
wigwagged to, and received messages from, the batteries. 
The scenes in the recitation rooms were frequently exciting 



2o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and interesting. The guns on shore roared and the shells 
burst, and the professor would placidly give out the problem 
to the youngster at the blackboard, to be interrupted by 
the report of some gun which his practiced ear told him was 
a newcomer in the fray. He would begin by saying: "If 
x—y — One moment, Mr. Blank. Would you kindly step 
outside and find out for me which battery it is that has 
opened with that Brooke gun?" The information obtained 
the recitation would be resumed, only to be again inter- 
rupted by a message from the captain that a certain bat- 
tery was short of officers and a couple of midshipmen were 
wanted. It was useless to call for volunteers, as every mid- 
shipman clamored for permission to go: so these details 
were given as rewards. It was from among these midship- 
men that the men came who steered the boats when the 
gunboat Underwriter was boarded and captured in the 
night, and it was in that fight that Midshipman Palmer 
Saunders had his head cloven to his shoulders by a cutlass 
in the hand of a big sailor. Saunders was only seventeen 
years of age. It was in that same boarding expedition that 
Dan Lee, another midshipman from the Patrick Henry, 
called out to his would-be rescuer, when a sailor had him 
down and was trying to kill him, not to shoot, as the man 
on top of him was so thin ! Lee and Saunders were of the 
same age. This Patrick Henry may have been a unique 
institution of learning, but the "Confederate States Naval 
Academy" turned out men who afterwards became United 
States Senators, members of Congress, judges, successful 
and prominent lawyers, doctors, civil engineers, bankers, 
and successful business men as well as sailors. 

The Patrick Henry, besides being a naval academy and 
stopgap for the river obstructions, also served as a receiv- 
ing ship. Steamboats under flags of truce, carrying North- 
ern prisoners to Harrison's Landing for exchange, had to 
stop alongside of her to get permits to continue their trips, 
and . returning frequently discharged their human freight 



I CALL A Commander "My Man"! 207 

of Confederate prisoners on board the school ship while 
they went again down the river for more. One day, while 
I was assisting the officer of the deck in receiving these 
poor, forlorn fellows, I was trying to hurry them forward 
so that they would not block the gangway ; this was neces- 
sary, as with few exceptions they were so glad to be once 
more under their beloved Confederate flag that those who 
did not succeed in embracing the officer of the deck at least 
wanted to swap congratulations with the gray-coated mid- 
shipman. I was continually interrupting them by begging 
them not to block the gangway, but to pass forward, and 
that I would attend to their wants as soon as the rest could 
come aboard, etc. Suddenly the shabbiest, the raggedest, 
and most unkempt of the lot, with his matted hair reach- 
ing to his shoulders and looking as though it had never 
known the caress of a comb, shambled across the gang- 
plank, and in rather a peremptory manner demanded the 
name of my captain. I replied with the usual advice, "Go 
forward, my man; go forward!" — when to my amaze- 
ment the human wreck drew himself up and rather sternly 
said, "Little Morgan, I will apply for you as soon as I get 
a command and I will then show you, sir, who goes for- 
ward!" The man was Commander Beverly Kennon, who 
had rammed and sunk the U.S. sloop-of-war Varuna when 
Farragut passed the forts below New Orleans. I thought 
I should faint when I became aware of his identity. Here 
was I, a poor devil of a midshipman, ordering forward a 
man who ranked me so far that I would hardly be able 
to see where he passed along! It was not fair. Kennon 
was last seen by his compatriots in the fight at the forts 
standing on the paddlebox of his ship while the Hartford, 
Brooklyn, and the frigate Mississippi, with their tremen- 
dous broadsides, were shooing him ashore, when sud- 
denly they blew him up, set fire to him, and sunk him 
almost simultaneously. By all the rules of the game he was 
a dead man, and had no right to come back and scare a 



2o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

poor innocent midshipman out of several years' growth. 
Several years afterwards Kennon served in the Egyptian 
Army where he was a full colonel and I was again his 
junior. He seemed to take a delight in telling his brother 
officers how, as he described it, he had once been "ordered 
forward by a d d midshipman!" 

From the Patrick Henry we could see the constant move- 
ment of troops, both Union and Confederate, on the north 
side of the river, where they frequently clashed in skir- 
mishes ; but this sort of thing was so common that to break 
the monotony two of the midshipmen got permission to 
go ashore, and improved the time by fighting a duel with 
muskets. 

One morning we saw our soldiers hastily constructing 
a pontoon bridge on the river a short distance above where 
we were anchored. We soon learned that the cause of their 
activity was that General Grant's troops had surprised and 
captured Fort Harrison during the night, and that Fort 
Harrison was the key to our advanced line of defenses 
on the north side of the stream. The bridge was no 
sooner completed than Hoke's North Carolina division 
were rushed across it. These were the best-dressed and 
best-cared-for troops in the Confederate Army, as the 
State, with commendable paternalism, owned its steamers 
and had gone into the blockade-running business on its 
own account. 

Believing that the object of the sudden movement was 
to retake the fort. Midshipmen Carter, Hale, Wright, and 
myself asked and received permission to go ashore and 
see at close range the coming fight. Following the troops 
we saw them form their line of battle in front of the fort 
and its outlying breastworks, while the shells of the enemy 
were bursting over their heads as well as in front, behind, 
and among them. Soon we heard the rumble of the wheels 
of gun carriages and caissons, as our light batteries came, 
at the gallop, from the rear and dashed through the spaces 




COLONEL BEVERLY KENNON 

Coast Defense, Egyptian Army 



Assault on Fort Harrison 209 

between our brigades and regiments, and wheeling and un- 
limbering a short distance from our front, they opened a 
rapid fire. There was no wind stirring, and soon the ene- 
my's position, as well as that of our light batteries, was 
obscured from view by the dense smoke. Then their firing 
ceased, and so did that of the enemy's heavy guns. All 
at once our artillery was seen to burst through the bank 
of smoke and rapidly come back to us, dashing through 
our infantry line again, wheeling and unlimbering just in 
their rear: this manoeuvre was followed by complete still- 
ness, the most trying time in the life of a soldier, that two 
or three minutes, which seem unending, while waiting for 
the order to charge. 

The infantry moved forward, at the double-quick, under 
cover of the smoke which lay close to the ground in the 
heavy atmosphere. Nothing could be heard save the tramp 
of hurrying feet. Fort Harrison maintained an ominous si- 
lence. As our men neared the fortifications suddenly from 
twenty thousand throats burst forth the famous rebel yell 
which fairly rent the air. When within about a hundred 
yards from the coveted works there arose a long line of 
blue-coated soldiers, seemingly from out of the ground, 
who poured a deadly volley into the oncoming ranks of 
the North Carolinians and at the same time the heavy guns 
of the fort sprinkled them with shrapnel, grape, and can- 
ister. The fight was fast and furious for a time, and then 
we saw some slightly wounded men going to the rear; 
these were followed by the more seriously injured, each 
accompanied and assisted by two or three unhurt men, 
who, moved by compassion (?) assisted them. We then 
knew what was coming, and soon saw the whole line fall 
back, but not in any great disorder. We had been repulsed, 
but the enemy was not following us. 

When we reached the line, from which we had started 
to make our unsuccessful assault, the troops re-formed and 
waited. Suddenly from the left of the line we heard cheering 



210 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and wondered what it was for. It was not the rebel yell, 
which once heard could never be mistaken for any other 
sound; the sound we now heard was evidently a burst of 
enthusiasm, which was taken up by regiment after regi- 
ment until the whole line was adding to its volume. It 
was not long before we discovered the cause of the man- 
ifestation — for there, with his silvery head uncovered, 
hat in hand, was seen riding down the line — General 
Robert E. Lee. He was a picture of dignity as, mounted 
on his famous gray charger "Traveler," he spoke seriously 
to his unsuccessful troops. As he passed in front of where 
we were standing, we could plainly hear what he was say- 
ing — he was telling the men how important Fort Harri- 
son was to our line of defense, and that he was sure they 
could take it if they would make another earnest effort. 
Their answer was given in deafening cheers. 

Again they went forward to the assault, and again were 
they repulsed, this time with worse slaughter than had 
been their lot on the first attempt. The second retreat was 
much more disorderly than the first, but again they re- 
formed and waited — and again General Lee rode down 
the line. 

I had always thought General Lee was a very cold and 
unemotional man, but he showed lots of feeling and excite- 
ment on that occasion; even the staid and stately "Trav- 
eler" caught the spirit of his master, and was prancing and 
cavorting while the general was imploring his men to make 
one more effort to take the position for him. 

Again they went forward and again they came back — 
this time in great disorder. In fact, it was a sprinting 
match on a big scale. I had heard a great deal about the 
marvelous marching powers of the Confederate infantry- 
man, and I was only a poor "webfoot," temporarily off 
his element, but I do not recall having seen any infantry- 
men pass me on the way to our second line of defense. 

When the troops re-formed, General Lee again rode 



Lee and his Soldiers 211 

down the line trying to comfort his men by telling them 
they had done all that men could do, and that anyhow the 
place was not of as much importance as he had at first 
thought it was. This talk cheered the men, and they, al- 
though worn out with fatigue, replied by cheering their 
beloved general. 

After the battle a surgeon pressed me into his service 
and made me hold a soldier's shattered leg while he am- 
putated it. I would have preferred to be shot myself. 
Medicines were scarce in the South and that particular 
surgeon had neither chloroform nor ether in his medical 
kit. 

Disgusted, tired, and weary, I returned to my school 
and my studies. 



CHAPTER XXV 

I finally become a passed midshipman — Battery Semmes — The Dutch 
Gap Canal — Mortar pits and rifle pits — The lookout tower — Trading with 
the enemy — Pickett's famous division charges a rabbit — A shell from a 
monitor destroys my log hut — Good marksmanship — An unexploded shell 
— General Lee inspects battery — Costly result of order to "give him a shot 
in fifteen minutes" — Demonstration against City Point — Confederate iron- 
clads badly hammered — "Savez" Read cuts boom across the river — A thun- 
derous night. 

Shortly after the fall of Fort Harrison I passed my 
examination for promotion and arrived at the dignity of 
being a passed midshipman. I was immediately ordered 
to the naval battery called Semmes, situated on a narrow 
tongue of land formed by the river. It was the most ad- 
vanced of our defenses on the river, and was the nearest 
of any of our batteries to the Dutch Gap canal which was 
then being dug by General B. F. Butler. 

Our seven heavy guns, rifled and smooth-bore, were 
mounted in pits dug on the brow of a gently sloping hill — 
the battery was only thirty feet above the river. Between 
each of the guns was a bomb-proof which protected our 
ammunition. The guns were mounted on naval carriages 
so that our sailors could handle their accustomed blocks 
and tackles. 

On the opposite side of the river, and forming a semi- 
circle around the peninsula on which Semmes was located, 
were the heavy Union batteries called Bohler's, Signal 
Hill, Crow's Nest, the Dutch Gap batteries, and the How- 
lett House batteries, and when they all opened fire at once 
they made a perfect inferno out of Battery Semmes. It 
surely was a hot spot. 

Some six hundred yards in front of Battery Semmes, 
on the land side, we had four little Cohorn mortars in a 
pit, and with these we tossed shells constantly into the 
canal to interfere with its construction. General Butler put 



Mortar Pits and Rifle Pits 213 

a number of Confederate prisoners to work in his canal, and 
very thoughtfully sent us word that we were only killing 
our own men with our mortar shells. About the same 
time that we received this considerate message, Jeff Phelps, 
a midshipman who had been one of the "Brood of the 
Constitution," and who was one of the prisoners com- 
pelled to dig in the canal, in some way managed to get a 
note to us telling us that we "were doing fine" and to 
"keep it up." We only kept some eight or ten men at a 
time in the mortar pit and between the pit and our bat- 
tery were a number of rifle pits. When the mortars aggra- 
vated General Butler too much, he would send a force 
across the river to charge the mortars. Seeing them com- 
ing, our men would hastily beat a retreat, and like prairie 
dogs tumbling into their holes, they would disappear. The 
Union soldiers would, of course, capture the mortars and 
spike them, but when we thought that as many of them as 
the pit could hold were well in it, we would cut loose with 
the heavy guns of the big battery behind us which were 
trained on it. Then the Federal soldiers would hasten back 
to the river, and before they could get across, our men, 
who were provided with bows and drills, would have new 
vent holes bored and would be again tossing shells as 
though nothing had happened to interfere with their day's 
work. Why General Butler's men never carried off the 
mortars with them we could never understand — two 
strong men could have lifted any one of them, they were 
so small and light. 

General Butler had built a lofty lookout tower out of 
timber. It was very open work, and on the top of it he 
placed a telescope. I met a member of his stafif after the 
war who told me that they could see every movement we 
made, and that on one occasion he had distinctly seen a 
man in our battery cut off a chew of tobacco and put it 
into his mouth. 

There was a mystery as to the way in which privates 



214 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

would come to a tacit agreement with the enemy about not 
doing any sniping on certain parts of the line. I knew of 
one stretch of breastworks where our men could expose 
themselves with perfect impunity up to a spot on which 
stood an empty barrel, and on the other side of that barrel, 
if a man showed an old hat on the end of a ramrod, it was 
instantly perforated with bullets. 

The Union soldiers craved tobacco of which the South- 
erners had an abundance and the "grayback" longed for 
coffee or sugar. At some points on the line trading in these 
commodities went on briskly without the knowledge of the 
officers. Their dealings were strictly honorable. A man, 
say from the Southern side, would creep outside the works, 
and when he reached a certain stump he would place a 
couple of large plugs of tobacco on it and then return to his 
companions. After a time he would again creep to the stump 
to find that his tobacco was gone, but in its place was 
a small quantity of the longed-for coffee and sugar. We 
always carried one or two long plugs of tobacco in our inside 
breast pockets, as it was a common belief that if a man was 
captured and had tobacco it would insure him good treat- 
ment. 

One foggy night I was on duty and had visited our out- 
posts. While returning to the battery on a path close to the 
riverside, I distinctly heard oars slapping the water — the 
rowlocks were evidently muffled. Although I could not see 
the boat I felt that it must be very near the shore, and I 
hailed it with a "Boat ahoy! Keep farther out In the 
stream!" The answer came back: "We don't do any 
picket firing on this line." I told the spokesman that I knew 
that, but we did n't want him to bunk with us, and hardly 
were the words out of my mouth when the bow of the boat 
was rammed into the mud at my feet. I felt sure my time 
had come, and hastily jerked my pistol out of the holster 
intending to fire so as to give the alarm, when I heard a 
voice say, "For the love of Mike, Johnny, give me a chew 



Pickett's Division charges a Rabbit 215 

of tobacco." The tone was so pleading and earnest that 
I could not resist it and handed the fellow my plug. In re- 
turn he gave me a canteen full of whiskey. We entered into 
conversation, and I discovered that he was an old classmate 
of mine at Annapolis who had "bilged" and was now a 
master's mate in charge of a picket boat whose duty was 
to give warning if our ironclads descended the river. I 
warned him about the folly of his act, and he shoved out 
into the stream and disappeared forever out of my life. 
When I produced my canteen before my messmates they 
fairly went wild with joy, but nothing ever could induce me 
to tell how I had come into possession of the liquor. 

Muskrats or rabbits, when caught, which was rarely, 
were a welcome addition to our menu. Pickett's division 
supported our battery and was encamped about half a mile 
from us. One day we thought that those thousands of men 
had gone crazy — there was the wildest commotion among 
them. Men rushed to and fro in the wildest confusion, fall- 
ing over one another in every direction — it looked like a 
free fight. We sent over to find out the cause of the riot and 
were informed that one poor little "cotton-tail bunny" 
had jumped out of a bush in the centre of the camp and that 
some ten thousand men had given chase in hopes of having 
him for supper. 

The winter of 1864-65 was an intensely cold one. Snow 
from three to six inches in depth lay constantly on the 
ground keeping the trenches wet and muddy, and the con- 
sequent discomfort was great. Lieutenant Bradford, our 
commander, and Lieutenant Hilary Cenas and the surgeon 
had two log huts to live in. Becoming envious I got several 
of the men to assist me in building a cabin for myself, with 
the chinks all stuffed with mud and with a beautiful mud 
chimney of which I was very proud. I had had it located in 
a little gulch behind the battery and it did look so comfort- 
able, but alas, work had gone on very rapidly in the con- 
struction of the canal despite our continual mortar fire, and 



2i6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

on the afternoon of the day on which my house was finished 
a monitor fired several eleven- inch shells through the canal, 
and with the whole State of Virginia to select from, one of 
these projectiles could find no other place to explode in but 
my little cabin, which it scattered to the four winds. 

Some days there would be a lull in the artillery fire, and 
we could walk about exposing ourselves to the enemy's fire 
with perfect impunity, and on other days the most trifling 
movement on our part, such as the moving of an empty 
water barrel, or a few men chasing a frightened and bewil- 
dered "cotton-tail" would bring upon us a storm of projec- 
tiles from the enemy's guns. Constant practice had made 
the artillery firing very effective, so much so that it was 
not an uncommon thing for us to have one or more of our 
guns knocked off their carriages. Lieutenant Cenas seemed 
to have a tacit understanding with the gunner of a rifled 
piece in the Crow's Nest Battery whose marksmanship he 
admired very much. Cenas would go outside of the works 
and place an empty barrel or tobacco box on top of a stump, 
and then, stepping to one side, he would wave his arms as 
a signal to his favorite gun-pointer on the other side, and 
immediately we would see a puff of smoke and the projec- 
tile would always tear up the ground very close to the stump 
and frequently both stump and barrel would be knocked 
into smithereens. 

One afternoon a monitor fired a shell through the canal 
which landed a few yards in front of our battery. A sailor, 
in pure dare-deviltry, went outside to pick it up. Just as 
he got to it I saw a thread of smoke arising from the fuse, 
and I yelled to him to jump back — but too late. The 
sailor gave it a push with his foot and it bounded into the 
air taking off the man's leg ; the shell then landed in one of 
our gun pits and exploded killing and wounding several men. 
It must have been spinning with great rapidity on its axis 
and only needed the touch of the sailor's foot to start it 
again on its mission of destruction. 



Costly Result of an Order 217 

We flew no flag, as it was useless to hoist one; the enemy 
would shoot it away as fast we would put it up. A wonder- 
fully accurate gun was a light field piece, a Parrott gun, 
which would come out from behind the Bohler Battery, 
take up a position in the bushes, and shoot at any man 
bringing water from a near-by spring, and he was frequently 
successful in hitting him. One day General Lee was inspect- 
ing the line and stopped for a few moments at our battery. 
He ordered us to drive this fellow away, and then looking 
at his watch added, "Give him a shot in fifteen minutes." 
Then the general on his gray horse rode away. At the 
expiration of the fifteen minutes we let go our seven heavy 
guns into the bushes where we supposed the fellow to be — 
with the result that he limbered up and hastily took refuge 
behind his works, and from fifty to seventy-five guns in the 
batteries which enfiladed Semmes cut loose into us and kept 
it up for three days and nights, dismounting three of our 
guns, killing and wounding a number of our men. 

We could shoot just as well at night as we could in the 
daytime, as from constant practice we had the ranges of all 
of the enemy's batteries, and had marked the trunnions of 
our guns for range and the traverses for direction. Such 
firing was accurate, as was proved on several occasions by 
our discovering at daylight that we had dismounted some 
of the guns of our antagonists. 

In the latter part of January, 1865, our supply of ammu- 
nition was running short, and as a consequence we were 
ordered to be sparing with it, so we would only fire a gun 
when the enemy's fire would slacken up a bit to let them 
know that we were still there. This seemed to encourage 
our opponents and they hammered us all day with their big 
guns, and all through the nights they dropped mortar shells 
among us. These shells, with their burning fuses, resembled 
meteors flying through the air; they made an awful screech- 
ing noise as they tore the atmosphere apart when coming 
down before we heard the thud of their striking the ground 



2i8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and the terrific explosion which would follow, and then 
would come the whistling of the fragments as they scattered 
in every direction. We were so accustomed to these sounds 
that we did not allow them to interfere with our slumbers, 
as wrapped in our one blanket we slept in the bomb-proofs 
or magazines. 

The end of the Southern Confederacy was near at hand, 
although we at the front little realized the fact. The author- 
ities in Richmond determined to make a daring attempt to 
capture or destroy General Grant's base of supplies at City 
Point on the James. Late on the afternoon of January 23, 
1865, we received notice to be ready, as our three ironclads, 
the Virginia Number 2, the Richmond, and the Fredericks- 
burg, would come down that night, run the gantlet of the 
Federal batteries, and try to force their way through the 
boom the enemy had placed across the river (at Howlett's) 
in anticipation of just such an attempt. I happened to be 
officer of the day. The night was very dark, and suddenly 
I heard a sentry challenge something in the river. I ran 
down to the edge of the water and arrived there just in time 
to see a rowboat stick her nose into the mud at my very 
feet, and was much surprised to see my old shipmate, 
"Savez" Read, step ashore. He was in a jolly mood, as he 
told me that our ironclads would follow him in a couple of 
hours, and that he was going ahead to cut the boom so that 
they could pass on and destroy City Point. "And now, 
youngster," he said, "you fellows make those guns of yours 
hum when the 'Yanks' open, and mind that you don't 
shoot too low, for I will be down there in the middle of the 
river." And then he put his hand affectionately on my 
shoulder and added : " Jimmie, it's going to be a great night; 
I only wish you could go with me : a sailor has no business 
on shore, anyway." And laughing he stepped back into his 
boat and shoved out into the stream. 

The enemy must have had some information as to our 
plans, for Read had not proceeded very far before the bank 



A Thunderous Night 219 

of the river looked as though it was infested by innumerable 
fireflies as the sharpshooters rained bullets on his boat 
which was proceeding with muffled oars. They completely 
riddled it, but Read kept on while bailing the water out of 
her, and strange to say he reached the boom and success- 
fully cut it. 

About two hours after Read left, our so-called ironclads 
noiselessly glided by the battery. The stillness was un- 
broken for so long a time that we began to congratulate 
ourselves that they had safely got by the enemy's batteries 
without being discovered. But our exultation was prema- 
ture — they did get by the Bohler and Signal Hill batteries 
unobserved, but unfortunately the furnaces of the leading 
boat were stirred, and a flame shot out of her smokestack 
which instantly brought upon her a shower of shot and shell, 
and instantly the big guns on both sides were in an uproar. 
My! but that was a thunderous night; the very ground 
quivered under the constant explosions. 

The next morning we learned that our demonstration 
against City Point had resulted in a most mortifying failure. 
The smallest of our ironclads, the Fredericksburg, passed 
safely through the obstructions, but the Virginia, which 
steered very badly, ran aground and blocked the passage 
to the Richmond. The wooden gunboat Drewry also missed 
the channel and ran ashore. The Fredericksburg was re- 
called and the big monitor Onondaga with her immense 
guns arrived on the scene shortly after daylight. With one 
shot she smashed in the Virginia's forward shield. The 
Virginia got afloat again and presented her broadside, 
which was also perforated as though it was made of paper. 
She then brought her after gun into action and a shot from 
the monitor also smashed her after shield. They all returned 
that night under a rain of projectiles from the shore batteries 
similar to that they had been exposed to the night before, and 
on that occasion our ironclads, on which we had based such 
high hopes, fired their last hostile shot. The end was near. 



CHAPTER XXVI 

The Confederate "White House" — President Davis gives an impromptu 
lecture on bridle bits — Letter of Mrs. Jefferson Davis denying truth of anec- 
dote relating to President Buchanan, Mrs. Joseph E. Johnston, and herself — 
The Southern soldiers and girls dance, flirt, and marry, oblivious of the signs 
that the "debacle" draws near. 

Notwithstanding the hardships we were all necessarily 
subjected to at the front, my life at that time was not devoid 
of pleasures. Frequently I was allowed to go to Richmond 
where I had friends and where I was made welcome. Among 
these dear friends were President and Mrs. Jefferson Davis. 
I have mentioned that one of my brothers had married a 
cousin of Mrs. Davis's, and her youngest brother, Midship- 
man Jefferson Davis Howell, was one of my most intimate 
friends, so I was made to feel very much at home at the 
Confederate "White House." I remember being there one 
day with my fiancee sitting on a sofa in a parlor adjoining 
the room Mr. Davis used as his private office, when unex- 
pectedly the door between the two rooms opened and the 
President entered. He apologized for intruding on us, say- 
ing that he expected to find Mrs. Davis there. In one hand 
he held a steel bridle bit and in the other a piece of chamois 
leather with which he was polishing it. He at once proceeded 
to tell us about the merits of that particular bit, and becom- 
ing interested in the subject he went on to give us quite a 
lecture on bridle bits, their uses and abuses; he told us how 
the cruel Mexican bit, with which a brutal man can break 
the jaw of a horse, had come down from the ancients and 
had been imported into Morocco by the Arabs and into 
Spain by the Moors, and by the Spanish into Mexico and 
South America. He was familiar also with the modern bits 
and was quite eloquent over his account of how Chifney, a 
famous English jockey, had invented the most merciful of 
all curb bits. He told us a lot more about bridle bits which 



Anecdote relating to Buchanan 221 

I cannot remember, and as he told it it made the simple 
subject much more interesting than I could ever have imag- 
ined it could be made. 

Mrs. Davis was highly gifted intellectually, and in her 
home was an affectionate wife and mother; her devotion 
to her husband and children was beautiful to see. In so- 
ciety she was bright and witty, and on occasion could 
blight with sarcasm any one who had the misfortune to 
displease her, and when she did turn loose her tongue in 
that vein, society in Richmond was usually kept in a state 
of hysterical laughter for weeks afterwards. 

There were many stories concerning Mrs. Davis's en- 
mity toward Mrs. General Joseph E. Johnston, but they 
were without any foundation in fact. Mrs. Davis often 
spoke to me about her affection for Mrs. Johnston and how 
intimate they had been in Washington prior to the war. 
One of the stories, which is still current at this day, was 
that when Mrs. Davis went to bid President Buchanan 
good-bye, she told him that she could forgive everything 
except his having turned Mrs. Joe Johnston's head by 
making her husband a brigadier-general. This story was 
revamped and published in many papers years afterwards. 
I sent Mrs. Davis a clipping containing the story, and this 
is the letter she wrote me in acknowledging its receipt. 
The letter, with some others which she was kind enough 
to write me, are now in the Congressional Library: — 

"The Rockingham," Narragansett Pier, R.I. 
August 19, 1898. 
My dear Jimmie: — 

I should have answered your two kind letters and offered 
thanks for them and also for the good likeness of my beloved 
brother, but I have been so utterly wretched I could not do so. 
My Winnie has now been critically ill for twenty-eight days, and 
is still quite ill and suffering so that I can think of nothing else. 
Our physician seems not to fear the outcome of her illness, but 
she is dreadfully reduced and very patient in her pain. 

The anecdote of Mr. Buchanan and me is nonsense. Nothing 



222 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

of the kind or the least like it ever happened. I was unaffectedly 
fond of him and went to bid him an affectionate farewell. 

My brother's likeness is such a comfort to me. I enjoy looking 
at his boyish face more than I can express. Thank you from the 
bottom of my heart for your kind thought of me. 

I am more than glad that you did not go to Cuba, since the war 
has been so short and decisive — you could only have lost your 
health, and could not have added much to your reputation by 
any notable achievement. 

I hope that Mrs. Morgan continues well. 

I do not know how long we shall be here, perhaps until the last 
of October before we return home. 

Believe me cordially your friend, 

V. Jefferson Davis. 

At the house of Mr. Trenholm I was always received as 
one of the family. The beautiful house, which had been 
built originally by an English gentleman of wealth and 
artistic tastes, was the centre of a certain amount of gayety, 
and frequented, especially on Saturday evenings, by many 
distinguished people, among them of course many for- 
eigners, who visited Richmond for the excitement of the 
experience. Mr. Trenholm, the Secretary of the Treasury, 
was a man of great wealth and probably the largest owner 
of blockade-runners, and consequently almost every luxury 
in the way of food was most hospitably placed before his 
guests. 

Where two or three young Southerners were gathered 
together there was sure to be singing and dancing. It is 
true that there were not many handsome toilets to be seen 
at these receptions, but the young girls were so pretty no 
one took the trouble to look at their dresses of a style 
fashionable before the war. The foreigners, of course, ap- 
peared in the orthodox dress coats and white ties, but we 
poor fellows who belonged at the front shamelessly joined 
the gay throng in our rags and tatters. My uniform, which 
had once been gray, had turned a green yellowish brown 
owing to its exposure to the elements and the mud in the 



Southern Soldiers dance and marry 223 

trenches., I had had the misfortune to have one of my coat 
tails burned off while sleeping too close to a camp-fire; 
one of my trousers legs had raveled out to halfway up the 
calf of my leg, and the lower part of the other trousers leg 
was very ragged ; I wore a boot on one foot and a shoe on 
the other — the boot on the bare leg. This Falstaffian cos- 
tume was set off with a sword, and if there is anything that 
will make a ragged man look more ridiculous than another 
it is the wearing of a sword. But the girls in their four- 
year-old dresses did not mind our appearance, and it would 
have been a cold day when a man in civilian togs, no matter 
how well dressed, could have persuaded one of those South- 
ern girls to dance with him when a man from the front 
wanted a turn. 

Mr. Trenholm, as I have said before, was most hospi- 
tably inclined and was the possessor of some of the finest 
and oldest Madeira wine in the country; naturally his in- 
vitations to dinner were rarely declined. I used to meet at 
his table the most distinguished generals of our army and 
the members of the Cabinet. These gentlemen for the 
most part were taciturn and serious, but Mr. Judah P. 
Benjamin, the Secretary of State, and Mr. Trenholm were 
both gifted conversationalists and very witty, and they 
always enlivened the banquets with anecdotes. Mr. Pierre 
Soule, of Louisiana, was also a frequent guest; he was a 
most interesting talker. It was Mr. Soul6, who when 
United States Minister to Spain, after the duel between 
his son and the Duke of Alba, brother-in-law of the French 
Emperor, shot and crippled for life the Marquis de Turgot, 
the French Ambassador to Spain. 

Despite the sad state of affairs, both in the Capital and 
in the country, there were balls and parties, and "marrying 
and giving in marriage" going on in Richmond. Mr. 
McFarland, a wealthy banker, was to give a ball and social 
Richmond was all agog over the prospect. To attend this 
ball it was necessary for me to have a new uniform. With 



224 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

any amount of Confederate money at my disposal, the 
modern man might ask why I did not go to a tailor and 
order one, but that was not the way we did things in those 
days. In the first place, there were no stores and had there 
been there would not have been anything in them for sale. I 
had to search the town before I found a man who possessed 
a few yards of gray cloth and willing to part with it for 
several hundred dollars in Confederate money. I finally 
found such a man, and also bought from him a pair of 
boots made out of thick, half-tanned cowskin for which I 
paid three hundred dollars. I looked so nice in my new 
togs that I was immediately asked by an army surgeon 
to be one of the groomsmen at his wedding, and I also 
attended the wedding of the beautiful Miss Hetty Cary 
to General John Pegram which had so sad an ending a few 
days afterwards when General Pegram was killed. 

While the young people were laughing, dancing, and 
being killed, the black clouds of adversity were gathering 
over our beloved Confederacy. Bitter dissension had re- 
sulted from the removal of General Johnston from the 
command of the Western army — a step which President 
Davis took in response to popular clamor for a change. 
This demand did not come from Johnston's soldiers, but 
from the populace, who cried out that if Johnston contin- 
ued his strategy, the Western army would soon be in the 
Gulf of Mexico: they wanted an aggressive man put in 
command, and Mr. Davis gave them General Hood. He 
was aggressive enough, Heaven knows! After Hood's 
bloody victory at Franklin, in which some seventeen 
Southern generals fell, Mr. Davis was heard to observe 
that "one more such victory and there would not be any 
Western army left." After the disastrous defeat at Nash- 
ville the very men who had clamored to have General 
Johnston superseded, clamored against Mr. Davis for hay- 
ing removed him. 

The Confederate Congress was at open war with Presi- 



The "Debacle" draws near 225 

dent Davis and missed no opportunity to thwart his poli- 
cies. They refused point-blank to adopt any of his sugges- 
tions for the relief of the pitiable condition of the country, 
and in rejecting the financial schemes submitted by Mr. 
Trenholm, the Senate Finance Committee frankly told 
that gentleman that under no circumstances could they 
adopt his suggestions, as it would imply their sanction of 
a measure emanating from Mr. Davis's administration! 
Mr. Trenholm told them that when they had treated Mr. 
Memminger, his predecessor in the Treasury Department, 
in the same way, Mr. Memminger had consulted him as a 
friend as to the course he should pursue, and that he, Mr. 
Trenholm, had advised him to resign. Now that he him- 
self was placed in a similar position it was necessary that 
he should do likewise. The Senate Committee protested 
that such a course would not do at all, as they had a finan- 
cial proposition of their own which they wanted him to 
father on account of the popular belief in his ability as a 
financier. Mr. Trenholm, no less frank than they were, 
informed them, after glancing over their bill, that he had a 
reputation among business men to maintain, and that if 
he put his name and gave his approval to such a measure, 
financiers would laugh at him. He then went to Mr. Davis 
and tendered his resignation. Mr. Davis told him that it 
was his duty to remain in the Cabinet; that he, Mr. Davis, 
recognized that with a Congress at open war with the 
administration nothing could be done to relieve the Treas- 
ury. He declared he needed Mr. Trenholm's clear head 
and advice, and begged him to stand by him in his hour of 
need. 

As an example of the demoralization of the Confederate 
Government at this time, I remember going into the Sen- 
ate Chamber one day while that august body was in ses- 
sion. Heavy firing was going on at the front which could 
not only be plainly heard inside the building, but made 
the windows rattle when particularly heavy guns were 



226 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

discharged. To this ominous obligato the lawmakers were 
earnestly debating the question as to how many daily news- 
papers should be placed on the desk of each Senator every 
morning. While these petty quarrels were going on, the 
destiny of a whole people was being ruthlessly decided in 
blood and suffering; we men in the trenches fought, shiv- 
ered, and starved outside the city, and danced and made 
merry whenever we were allowed to come within its limits, 
little dreaming that the end was so near. 

The Southern soldier was a very determined fellow, and 
at the same time reckless and light-hearted; one moment 
he would be in deep distress over the loss of some dear 
comrade and the next he would be shouting with laughter 
over some senseless joke perpetrated by one of his com- 
panions. I went one day to a tobacco warehouse, then 
used as a hospital, to see my friend Captain F. W. Dawson, 
who was very seriously wounded. The ladies of Richmond 
were very kind to the wounded and out of their scanty 
means they managed to make dainties which they would 
carry to the hospitals and distribute themselves. The day 
was hot and I found my friend lying on a cot near the open 
front door, so weak that he could not speak above a whis- 
per, and after greeting him and speaking some words of 
cheer I saw that he was anxious to tell me something. I 
leaned over him to hear what he had to say, and the poor 
fellow whispered in my ear, " Jimmie, for God's sake, make 
them move my cot to the back of the building." 

I assured him that he had been placed in the choicest 
spot in the hospital, where he could get any little air that 
might be stirring; but he still insisted that he wanted to 
be moved, giving as a reason that every lady who entered 
the place washed his face and fed him with jelly. The re- 
sult was that his face felt sore and he was stuffed so full 
of jelly that he was most uncomfortable, as he was so 
weak he could not defend himself, and the procession of 
women would not listen to his protests. Shaking with 



Dawson in Hospital 227 

laughter, I delivered his request to the head surgeon, who 
pinned a notice on Dawson's sheet to the effect that ''This 
man must only be washed and fed by the regular nurses." 
Dawson was a gallant soldier and served on the staffs of 
J. E. B. Stuart, Fitzhugh Lee, and Longstreet. He recov- 
ered from his wounds and in 1873 married my sister Sarah. 



CHAPTER XXVII 

Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis and party south — No Pullman cars in 
those days — President Davis bids his family good-bye — Insolent deserters 
insult Mrs. Davis at Charlotte, North Carolina — A Hebrew gentleman gives 
her shelter — Midshipmen guarding the Confederacy's gold escort her to 
Abbeville, South Carolina — President Davis and his Cabinet at Abbeville. 

The spring of 1865 was fast approaching and we ex- 
pected soon to see great changes. One army or the other 
would surely attack ; they could not stand still indefinitely. 
One morning things became very lively at Battery 
Semmes. A rifled gun in my division exploded and an 
eight-inch smooth-bore was dismounted by a well-directed 
shot from Signal Hill. About noon my commander sent 
for me and, to my amazement, ordered me to go up to 
Richmond and report in person to the Secretary of the 
Navy, adding that I had better take my belongings with> 
me. I at once began to think of all my sins of commission! 
and omission. What could a Secretary of the Navy want' 
to see a passed midshipman for unless it was to give him a 
reprimand? Arriving In Richmond, I made my way to the 
Navy Department at once, and, to my surprise, I was 
shown into the Secretary's sanctum without delay. Mr. 
Mallory, instead of receiving me with a frown, was smiling, 
and if I had not been a midshipman I should really have 
thought he was glad to see me. To my surprise he told me 
that I was to accompany Mrs. Jefferson Davis south, and 
added, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, that the daughters 
of the Secretary of the Treasury were to be of the party. 
I hurried to Mr. Trenholm's house with the news, but no 
one there seemed at all surprised. I then went to the Presi- 
dent's mansion, which was only a block away, and had a 
few words with Mrs. Davis, who seemed to take it as a 
matter of course that I was to go south with her. There 
was not the slightest appearance of excitement or prepara- 



Ordered to accompany Mrs. Davis 229 

tion for a long journey about the Confederate executive 
mansion, and no one would ever have dreamed that a 
flight from a doomed city was about to take place. 

Returning to Mr. Trenholm's house, I dined with the 
family and we laughed and talked; but none of us spoke 
of the coming journey. In fact we young people were in 
blissful ignorance concerning the momentous events about 
to take place. After all, there was nothing extraordinary 
about Mrs. Davis's going south, for the President had 
frequently expressed a desire to have his family go to 
Charlotte, North Carolina, where they would be out of 
the turmoil and excitement of their surroundings in Rich- 
mond. So far as I was personally concerned, I took it for 
granted that I should return to the front after I had ful- 
filled my mission of accompanying the party to their desti- 
nation. 

It was then the Friday preceding the fall of Richmond, 
and about eight o'clock in the evening we received the ex- 
pected word that it was time for us to start for the station. 
A few minutes after we arrived there we were joined by 
Mrs. Davis, her sister, and the children, escorted by Col- 
onel Burton N. Harrison, the President's private secre- 
tary. The party arrived at the station in an overloaded 
carriage, Mrs. Davis being the fortunate possessor of about 
the only pair of carriage horses in Richmond. These ani- 
mals had made some lucky escapes from being requisi- 
tioned for the army, as, owing to the necessities of the 
family, they had once been sold and had been bought by 
two or three gentlemen and presented again to Mrs. Davis, 
only to be seized shortly afterwards by a provost guard 
on the street while Mrs. Davis was seated in the vehicle. 
President Davis would not lift a finger to save them, say- 
ing that other people's horses had been pressed for service 
in the army, and he did not see any reason why his wife's 
should not be taken in the same way. But again influen- 
tial friends persuaded the quartermaster to send them back, 



230 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and their last service to their mistress was to start her on 
that memorable and eventful journey. 

There were no Pullman sleeping-coaches in those days, 
and it was with great difficulty that an old creaky passenger 
car, long a stranger to paint and varnish, had been se- 
cured for the wife of the chief magistrate of a nation of 
some fifteen or twenty millions of people. We at once en- 
tered the car and seated ourselves on the lumpy seats 
which were covered with dingy and threadbare brownish 
red plush, very suggestive of the vermin with which it 
afterwards proved to be infested. The sleepy little chil- 
dren were laid on the seats and made as comfortable as 
possible under the circumstances, but they had hardly 
closed their eyes before President Davis entered the car. 
He spoke to us all pleasantly and cheerfully, then took a 
seat beside his wife and entered into conversation with 
her. They talked earnestly until the signal for our depar- 
ture was sounded, but in those days the trains were not 
run by schedule. You started when the train moved and 
you arrived when you got to your destination; that was 
all anybody knew about it. Mr. Davis rose from his seat 
at the sound of the bell and went from one to the other 
of his children kissing them good-bye; then he bade fare- 
well to his sister-in-law. Miss Maggie Howell, and affec- 
tionately embraced his wife. Passing the seats where sat 
the Misses Trenholm and myself, he gave us all a friendly 
handshake and wished us hon voyage. He then stepped on 
to the platform closely followed by Colonel Harrison. The 
signal to start was one of many false alarms, and the 
President and his secretary walked up and down on the 
platform outside, while engaged in what appeared to us 
onlookers very serious conversation. 

It was ten o'clock before our wheezy and feeble locomo- 
tive gave a screech and a jerk which started us on our 
journey. Colonel Harrison precipitately left his chief and 
jumped on board the moving train while the President 



Mrs. Davis at Charlotte 231 

waved a second farewell to his loved ones. We proceeded 
at a snail's pace for about twelve miles when suddenly 
we came to a standstill. Our ramshackle locomotive had 
balked; no amount of persuasion on the part of the engi- 
neer could induce it to haul us over a slight up-grade, and 
we remained where we were for the rest of the night. 
It was the afternoon of the next day when we arrived at 
Burkesville Junction, where Colonel Harrison received 
the news of the battle between Generals Pickett and 
Sheridan and telegraphed the information at once to Presi- 
dent Davis. 

We did not reach Charlotte until Tuesday; a journey 
which to-day requires only six or seven hours, had taken 
us four days to accomplish! There was a delay of two or 
three hours at Charlotte and, while waiting, Colonel Harri- 
son used the time to go into the city in search of shelter 
for Mrs. Davis and her helpless family. The inhabitants, 
however, did not rush forward to offer this lady in distress 
hospitality as they might have done a year or two before 
misfortune had overtaken her. They seemed to take it 
for granted that the end of the Confederacy was at hand, 
although the news of the fall of Richmond did not reach 
them until two days after our arrival. Mrs. Davis would 
have been in a sad plight if it had not been for the courage 
and chivalric courtesy of a Jewish gentleman, a Mr. Weil, 
who hospitably invited her to stay at his home until she 
could make other arrangements. May the God of Abra- 
ham, Isaac, and Jacob bless him wherever he is! 

The news of Mrs. Davis's arrival in Charlotte quickly 
spread through the city, which by that time was thronged 
with stragglers and deserters — conscripts — the very scum 
of the army, and a mob of these wretches gathered round 
the car in which she sat. The wretches reviled her in most 
shocking language. Colonel Harrison, who had returned 
from his quest for lodgings, and I closed the open windows 
of the car so that the ladies could not hear what was being 



232 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

said. We two men were helpless to protect them from the 
epithets of a crowd of some seventy-five or a hundred 
blackguards, but we stationed ourselves at the only door 
which was not locked, determined that they should not 
enter the car. Colonel Harrison was unarmed, and I had 
only my sword, and a regulation revolver in the holster 
hanging from my belt. Several of the most daring of the 
brutes climbed up the steps, but when Colonel Harrison 
firmly told them that he would not permit them to enter 
that car the cowards slunk away. When the disturbance 
had quieted down Mrs. Davis, her sister, and her children 
left the train, and with the daughters of Mr. Trenholm I 
continued on to Abbeville, South Carolina, where the 
Trenholms had previously engaged a pleasant house. It 
took us two more days to reach Abbeville, and it was not 
until our arrival there that we learned of the fall of Rich- 
mond and that President Davis and his Cabinet were at 
Danville, Virginia. 

Mrs. Davis remained for a few days in Charlotte, and 
then it was reported that General Sherman's army was 
headed that way. It was necessary for her to seek some 
haven of safety. She was indeed in a forlorn position, as 
nobody wished to shelter her for fear that the Union troops 
would destroy their homes if they did. Every road through 
the country was infested by deserters who would have given 
her scant consideration if they had wanted anything she 
possessed, and the only human being she could look to for 
protection was Colonel Harrison, who would have stood 
small chance of defending her against the bands of undisci- 
plined shirkers who were traversing the country and who 
never hesitated to take what they wanted from the weak 
and helpless. Just as things looked most hopeless to this 
unhappy lady, the midshipmen from the schoolship Patrick 
Henry, under the command of Lieutenant William H. 
Parker, arrived in Charlotte. When Richmond was ordered 
to be evacuated the authorities almost forgot the midship- 



Midshipmen guard Confederacy's Gold 233 

men, and it was only at the last moment that Lieutenant 
Parker received the order to blow up the "school " and make 
the best of his way to Charlotte, North Carolina. The mid- 
shipmen were landed on the river-bank and as they trudged 
toward Richmond they were saluted by the explosions of 
the magazines not only of their own ship, but also of those 
of the Confederate ironclads and wooden gunboats. When 
they arrived at the railway station at Manchester, across 
the river from Richmond, they found not only that the sol- 
diers had left, but also that no arrangements had been made 
for their transportation. Here a piece of good luck came 
their way. The Treasury officials, with some five hundred 
thousand dollars in gold and silver coin (all that the Con- 
federacy possessed) packed in kegs, were standing help- 
lessly on the platform alongside of a train on which they 
hoped to get away, while a drunken mob was fast gathering 
around them. Hundreds of barrels of whiskey had been 
stove in and their contents had filled the gutters in Rich- 
mond, and this crowd of swine, after filling themselves with 
the fiery liquor out of the ditches, became very brave, and 
determined to divide the assets of the Confederacy among 
themselves. The Treasury officials rather doubtfully asked 
Lieutenant Parker if he could protect the treasure, and when 
the little midshipmen were formed the mob commenced to 
jeer the children. But something happened ! — and before 
those ruffians realized it, they were all on the outside. Those 
midshipmen were regulars, and the mob instantly appreci- 
ated the fact that the guns and bayonets in the hands of 
those youngsters were going to be used at the word of com- 
mand, and the scoundrels were not so drunk that they did 
not appreciate the fact that "discretion was the better 
part of valor," and they fled. 

The Treasury men were so impressed by the easy way in 
which the midshipmen had handled the situation that they 
begged Lieutenant Parker to accompany the specie with 
his command; the money was loaded on the train and the 



234 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

midshipmen piled in after it, and thus it was that they 
arrived at Charlotte. 

The little command only had a short breathing spell at 
Charlotte, as the enemy were fast approaching and there 
was little time for them left in which to make a "get away." 
Lieutenant Parker persuaded Mrs. Davis to trust herself 
to the protection of the midshipmen, and they again started 
on their sad and painful journey. The railways by this time 
were completely disorganized and they could only proceed 
as far as Chester, South Carolina, in the cars. There Lieuten- 
ant Parker commandeered some wagons which he loaded 
with the gold and Mrs. Davis and her family. They then 
started over the rough country roads for Abbeville, South 
Carolina. 

What a distressing spectacle this train of three or four 
wagons, hauled by broken-down and leg-weary mules, must 
have presented, and what must have been the apprehen- 
sions of that stately and serene woman, the wife of the 
President of a nation of Anglo-Saxons, as she sat, surrounded 
by her helpless children, on one of these primitive vehicles 
while the half-starved animals slowly dragged her over the 
weary miles. A platoon of the middies marched in front of 
the singular procession, acting as an advance guard. An- 
other detachment followed the wagons, serving as a rear 
guard, and on either side of the train marched the rest of 
the youngsters. And not far away, on either flank and in 
their rear, hovered deserters waiting either for an oppor- 
tunity or the necessary courage to pounce upon fhe, to 
them, untold wealth which those wagons contained. 

When night fell on the first day of their march, they 
stopped at a country roadside church which at least af- 
forded shelter from the elements. Mrs. Davis, her sister, 
and the children slept on the bare floor, and Lieutenant 
Parker, as commanding officer, rested in the pulpit. The 
midshipmen who were not on guard duty lay down under 
the trees outside, in company with the mules. 



President Davis and his Cabinet 235 

While Mrs. Davis and her escort of ragged boys were 
slowly plodding on their way, things began to happen in the 
beautiful village of Abbeville, where every residence was 
surrounded by a garden and which impressed one as a more 
fitting setting for a May-day festival than for the scene 
of the disruption of a government. First, Senator Wigfall, 
the man who had received the surrender of Major Ander- 
son's sword at Fort Sumter, arrived. He was the most 
malignant and unrelenting of all President Davis's political 
enemies. Before making Texas his home he had been a 
resident of Abbeville, and he at once went to the house of 
Mr. Armisted Burt, an old friend, to ask for hospitality. 
Now it so happened that Mr. Burt had found means to send 
a message to Mr. Davis asking him, if he passed through 
Abbeville, to make his, Mr. Burt's house, his home. In less 
than forty-eight hours after Mr. Wigfall's arrival, who 
should appear at the house but Mr. Davis! Mr. Burt was 
placed in a most embarrassing position for a few moments, 
but Mr. Wigfall relieved the tension of the situation by has- 
tily taking his departure out of one door as Mr. Davis 
entered the other. 

The next distinguished persons to arrive were President 
Davis's Cabinet, in an ambulance, with the exception of 
Mr. Trenholm, and the Secretary of War, General Breckin- 
ridge, who preferred to ride on horseback. He made a great 
impression on me with his superb figure mounted on a large 
and fat charger, a rare sight in those days. The Cabinet 
camped in and around their ambulance which had stopped 
in the suburbs. I visited their camp and was somewhat 
surprised to see among these serious and care-worn-looking 
gentlemen the beaming smile on the round face of the rotund 
Secretary of State, Mr. Judah P. Benjamin. He was the 
picture of amiability and contentment. Mr. Trenholm, who 
had been taken seriously ill on the journey from Danville, 
had been left at a house on the road. Mr. Trenholm after- 
wards told me that Mr. Benjamin, up to the time he had 



236 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

left them, had been the life of the party with his wonderful 
fund of anecdote which continuously rippled from his 
mouth during the daytime, and when the shades of evening 
fell, and a more serious mood came over him, he would hold 
his small but distinguished audience spellbound by repeat- 
ing poetry from the apparently exhaustless storehouse of 
his memory. Mr. Trenholm also told me that he felt cer- 
tain that Mr. Benjamin had at the time secreted in his valise 
(which was a sort of Aladdin's lamp from which he could 
instantly produce anything that was needed) a complete 
disguise with which he intended to make his escape from his 
pursuers — and such indeed proved to be the fact. Through- 
out this whole trying journey Mr. Benjamin smoked most 
fragrant Havana cigars, much to the astonishment of his 
companions who wondered where he could have obtained 
such an unlimited supply of such a rare luxury. 

Then Mrs. Davis arrived with her ragged and mud- 
stained escort, most of whom by this time were walking on 
their "uppers," or the bare soles of their poor bruised feet. 
On arriving at Mr. Burt's house she expressed to her host a 
fear that his home would be destroyed by the Union troops 
when they learned that she had been sheltered there. The 
grand old Southern aristocrat made her a profound bow and 
replied, "Madam, I know of no better use my house could 
be put to than to be burned for such a cause." 

One of Mrs. Davis's children was quite ill, and it was sent 
over to the Trenholms* house where it could be made more 
comfortable, as Mr. Burt's home was crowded with guests. 

The midshipmen pushed on to Augusta, Georgia, some 
eighty miles away, seeking for a safe place to deposit the 
treasure, and on their arrival were told to get out of there as 
quickly as possible, as Sherman's men were expected at any 
moment ; so back they trudged to Abbeville where the Sec- 
retary of the Navy ordered them to be disbanded. These 
boys, averaging between fourteen and eighteen years of age, 
some of them nearly a thousand miles from their homes, the 



President Davis at Abbeville 237 

railroads destroyed, and the country filled with lawless men, 
were turned loose to shift for themselves. The money was 
turned over to the care of the soldiers. They took such care 
of it that unto this day never a dollar of it has been traced ! 
The lie that was circulated about Mr. Davis having got 
any of it was afterwards disproved by the poverty in which 
he and his wife lived and died. 

While Mr. Davis was at Abbeville a very unpleasant in- 
cident took place which those who were present and after- 
wards wrote accounts of his flight from Richmond have 
avoided mentioning, I suppose because it was not to the 
credit of some of the Confederate soldiers. In the moun- 
tains of North and South Carolina near the Tennessee line 
there were bands of bandits who called themselves "guer- 
rillas." A false report reached Mr. Davis to the effect that 
these brigands, learning that a large amount of gold was 
being taken through the country protected only by a few 
little boys, had made a sudden descent from their mountain 
fastnesses and were rapidly approaching Abbeville. On 
receiving this report Mr. Davis mounted his horse and rode 
out to a camp where some of the soldiers were bivouacked. 
The soldiers were drawn up to receive him and he made 
them a short address — very short. He told them of the 
report about the guerrillas, and also told them that both 
General Sherman and General Johnston attacked this band 
wherever they found them on account of the many atroci- 
ties they had been guilty of against both Union men and }l 
Confederates, and wound up his talk by asking the men if 
they would go out with him to attack those robbers and 
murderers. As he paused for a reply, a private pushed his 
horse to the front and said: *'Our lives are just as precious 
to us as yours is to you. The war is over and we are going 
home!" And without the slightest semblance of order the 
gang — I can call them nothing else — dispersed, leaving 
those few gallant and loyal fellows who accompanied Mr. 
Davis until he was captured. 



? 



CHAPTER XXVIII 

President Davis departs from Abbeville — I carry a communication to 
General Fry at Augusta, Georgia — United States troops occupy Abbeville — 
We bury the silver chests — Paroled at Washington, Georgia — Accompany 
Mr. Trenholm to Columbia, where he buys a home — Mr. Wagner, of Fraser, 
Trenholm & Co., pays to avoid arrest in Charleston, and Mr. Trenholm is ar- 
rested in Columbia — Placed in the common jail — Mrs. King hides the gold 
under the Federal commander's nose — General Gillmore, U.S.A., treats Mr. 
Trenholm magnanimously. 

Before Mr. Davis left Abbeville I begged him to allow 
me to accompany him, but he told me that it would be 
impossible, as I had no horse, and that it was not in his 
power to procure me one. He spoke to me in the most 
fatherly way, saying that as soon as things quieted down 
somewhat I must make my way to the trans- Mississippi, 
where we still had an army and two or three small gun- 
boats on the Red River, and in the mean time he would 
give me a letter to General Fry, commanding at Augusta, 
asking him to attach me temporarily to his staff. He also 
gave me an official communication for General Fry and 
instructed me to try and get transportation by some wagon 
going in that direction. 

I watched Mr. Davis as he mounted his horse, bade him 
good-bye, and stood looking after him as he took the road 
which led to Washington, Georgia. That was the last 
time I ever saw him. 

Hearing of a farmer who had an old broken-kneed, spa- 
vined white horse hid in the swamp, I soon made a deal 
with him by which I became the owner of the equine frame 
and he the possessor of several thousand dollars in Con- 
federate money which he believed some day in the vague 
future would have a value. I then went to Augusta, and 
when I gave General Fry the document Mr. Davis had 
entrusted me with (the contents of which I never learned) I 
believe I delivered the last official communication Presi- 



"Sherman's Bummers" 239 

dent Davis ever sent to a general of the Confederate 
Army. 

In Augusta I remained only two or three days. Every 
one realized that the end of the Confederacy had come so 
far as they were concerned, and people were flying from 
the city not knowing where they were going — only anx- 
ious to escape from the place they were in. 

General Fry advised me to return to Abbeville, as I had 
friends there, and being of no possible use where I was, I 
accepted his kindly counsel and returned. 

The soldiers who had accompanied Mr. Davis had not 
surrendered at Appomattox, but now there was a stream 
of paroled men, and men who had deserted before the end 
came in Virginia, passing through the once peaceful town. 
While these men committed no outrages when they went 
into a private house to ask for food or shelter, they adopted 
a threatening attitude which was very offensive. Fortu- 
nately a younger brother of Mrs. William L. Trenholm, a 
lieutenant in the South Carolina regulars, arrived, and while 
we could not prevent the crowds of hungry men from swarm- 
ing over the lower floors of the house, where although not 
invited, they made themselves very much at home, we 
could and did keep them from invading the upper portion 
of the home where the ladies secluded themselves. 

When the danger from our own men had passed, owing 
to their hurried exit from the town, we had immediately 
to prepare for another. Sherman's men were very near 
and were fast approaching, and the inhabitants were in 
mortal terror of the lawless crew known as "Sherman's 
bummers," who rode on the flanks of his army, accounts 
of whose fiendish outrages were on every tongue. 

While we noticed no change in the demeanor of the 
slaves, still we had no means of knowing what their atti- 
tude would be when the Union troops entered the place, 
and this uncertainty caused us some anxiety. 

In the house were two large and very heavy chests of 



240 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

silver which Lieutenant Macbeth (Mrs. W. L. Trenholm's 
brother) and I determined to attempt to save by burying 
it. We were afraid to take any of the negroes into our con- 
fidence, so we determined to do the work ourselves. We 
waited until midnight when every one on the premises was 
supposed to be asleep, and then, carrying our spades, we 
stealthily stole into the garden and proceeded to dig two 
large graves. The night was well suited for our work, as 
there was a moon but it was somewhat obscured by clouds. 
When we had finished our task we entered the house and 
by great exertion managed to carry out the chests and 
bury them. As soon as they were covered with earth, it 
was evident, even in the dark, that the newly upturned 
ground would betray us. There was nothing left to do but 
to dig up the entire garden if our hiding-place was not to 
attract the attention of the first passer-by, and this we at 
once proceeded to do. It was no light job, as the garden 
must have comprised nearly an eighth of an acre, and 
daylight came while the task was still uncompleted. I 
suddenly looked up from my work and there, to my con- 
sternation, I saw " Nat," Mrs. Trenholm's butler, the slave 
whose loyalty to the family we had grave doubts about, 
leaning against the fence, on the top of which his arms were 
resting while he calmly watched what we were doing. I 
asked him how long he had been there, and he frankly re- 
plied: "I'se been here ever since you gentlemen started 
work." I then asked him why he had not offered to help 
us, and he said it was because he thought we did not want 
any one to know what we were doing. Naturally it was too 
late to make any other disposition of the silver, and we 
felt sure that it would be lost. That morning the advance 
guard of the Federals entered the village. Two or three sol- 
diers came to the house and I saw "Nat" (standing over 
the very spot where the silver was buried) talking to them. 
Of course we expected a demand would be made for spades, 
but, be it said to "Nat's" honor, he never betrayed us. 



Paroled at Washington, Georgia 241 

A few years after this incident occurred, I met "Nat" in 
Columbia. He was then a member of the legislature and 
one of our lawmakers! The Union soldiers did not molest 
us in any way, and much to our astonishment who should 
drive up to the house but "Daddy" Peter, Mr. Trenholm's 
old negro coachman, with the landau and its handsome 
pair of bays. "Daddy" Peter, on the approach of Sher- 
man's army to Columbia, had fled to the swamp with his 
cherished horses and hidden them until the danger of their 
being seized had passed. Mr. and Mrs. George Trenholm 
next arrived, Mr. Trenholm being still quite ill. Nobody 
seemed disposed to molest him, although the Federal au- 
thorities knew of his presence in the town. 

Major Julian Mitchel unexpectedly arrived at the 
house and informed us that all Confederate officers who 
had not been paroled were being arrested and treated with 
a great deal of harshness. As there was no officer of the 
United States Army authorized to parole us nearer than 
Washington, Georgia, forty miles away. Colonel Tren- 
holm, Major Mitchel, and myself got into Mr. Trenholm's 
carriage at daylight the next morning and drove to Wash- 
ington, Georgia, where we were most affably received by 
Captain Lott Abraham, U.S.A., who took our paroles 
and gave us each, for our own protection, a certificate 
that we had been paroled. 

In the evening Major Mitchel went to call on friends 
who resided in the town, and Colonel Trenholm and I paid 
a visit at the house of Judge Andrews, one of the most 
prominent residents of the place, and a consistent Union 
man, although his whole family were ardent "rebs." One 
of the judge's daughters. Miss Eliza Frances Andrews, kept 
a diary in those days which was afterwards published in 
191 1 under the title of "Wartime Journal of a Georgia 
Girl"; and in it she makes the following mention of our 
visit: — 



242 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

May 16, 1S65 — Two delightful visitors after tea, Colonel 
Trenholm (son of the Secretary of the Treasury) and Mr. Morgan, 
of the navy, who is to marry his sister. 

The news this evening is that we have all got to take the oath 
of allegiance before getting married. This horrid law aroused 
much talk in our rebellious circle, and the gentlemen laughed very 
much when Cora said, "Talk about dying for your country, but 
what is that to being an old maid for it?" 

The chief thought of our men is how to embroil the United 
States either in foreign or internal commotions, so that we can 
rebel again. They all say that if the Yankees had given us any 
sort of tolerable terms they would submit quietly, though unwill- 
ingly, to the inevitable; but if they carry out the abominable 
programme of which flying rumors reach us, extermination itself 
will be better than submission. Garnett says that if it comes to 
the worst, he can turn bushwhacker; and we all came to the con- 
clusion that if this kind of peace continues, bushwhacking will be 
the most respectable occupation a man can engage in. Mr. 
Morgan said, with a lugubrious smile, that his "most ambitious 
hope now is to get himself hanged as quickly as possible." 

Possibly, if Miss Andrews had ever read President Lin- 
coln's proclamation ordering all persons who had engaged 
in preying on American commerce, when captured, to be 
treated as pirates,^ she would not have thought that re- 
mark so amusing. It was fortunate for me that none of 
the Federal officers in the neighborhood knew that I had 
been engaged in that business. As it was, when the am- 
nesty proclamation was issued, I found myself excepted 
under three separate headings, namely: Having been at the 

* . . . And I hereby proclaim and declare that if any person, under the pre- 
tended authority of the said States, or under any other pretense, shall molest 
a vessel of the United States, or the persons or cargo on board of her, such 
person shall be held amenable to the laws of the United States for the preven- 
tion and punishment of piracy. 

In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the 
United States to be affixed. 

Done at the city of Washington this 19th day of April, a.d. 1861, and of the 
Independence of the United States the eighty-fifth. 

[l.s.] Abraham Lincoln. 

By the President. 

William H. Seward, Secretary of Slate. 



Abbeville 243 

United States Military or Naval Academy — being worth 
more than twenty thousand dollars — and having preyed 
on American commerce. 

In Abbeville provisions were very scarce, and the farm- 
ers who did have a few vegetables and chickens, of course 
would not part with them for worthless Confederate money. 
Probably the only gold in the place was in Mr. Trenholm's 
house, and there was not a coin in the lot of less value than 
a twenty-dollar gold-piece, and of course nobody could 
change such a sum as that. But fortunately the family 
owned stock in the Graniteville Mills, which manufactory 
declared dividends in cotton cloth. Mr. Alexander Mac- 
beth and I would take a bolt of this cloth and put it into 
the carriage and drive into the country away off the usual 
routes of travel, stopping at farmhouses, where we had no 
difficulty in exchanging a few yards of it for anything in 
the way of edibles the farmers possessed. Mr. Macbeth 
afterwards married Miss Eliza, one of Mr. Trenholm's 
daughters. 

The United States army officers stationed at Abbeville 
showed no disposition to molest Mr. Trenholm, and their 
ignoring of his presence there lulled us into a false feeling 
of security concerning the Government's intentions con- 
cerning him, from which we were later to have a rude 
awakening. 

The house in Abbeville was small for such a large family, 
and with the idea of giving young Mrs. Trenholm and her 
little children more room, Mr. Trenholm decided to go to 
Columbia to see if he could not get a more commodious 
house. Mr. Trenholm's beautiful villa in the suburbs had 
been destroyed when Columbia was burned, but there were 
still left in the city a few residences forming a sort of 
fringe around the outskirts of the once beautiful little city. 

With two portmanteaus, one of which contained a large 
sum of gold, Mr. Trenholm and I entered his carriage 
soon after dark and started on the long drive to Columbia. 



244 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

We were compelled to go by carriage, as the railroads 
had been destroyed, the fat-pine cross- ties burned to heat 
the rails, and the red-hot rails wrapped around the trees 
growing near the track. We used to call these iron rails 
"Sherman's neckties," and the solemn-looking chimneys 
standing guard over the former sites of once happy homes 
were called by the natives "Sherman's monuments." 

Arriving at Columbia we were hospitably entertained by 
Mr. William Ford De Saussure, who was then living in the 
residence formerly occupied by the president of the South 
Carolina College and which stands to this day on the college 
campus. Mr. De Saussure's home had shared the fate of 
most of the houses of the city during the conflagration. 

It was found impossible to rent a house, but Mr. Tren- 
holm was fortunate enough to find a gentleman who was anx- 
ious to sell his home, a large and comfortable one, for gold, 
as he wished to leave the State. The people had not as yet 
become accustomed to the greenback currency of their con- 
querors and looked askance at it. The house was bought, 
and the family moved to Columbia where they lived for 
some weeks in peace and comfort until an unfortunate 
episode occurred in Charleston. 

Mr. Theodore Wagner, who was one of Mr. Trenholm's 
partners, and whose first wife was a sister of Mr. Trenholm, 
was a most generous man who wore his purse on his sleeve 
at the service of any who cared to use it. He was also a 
highly nervous and timid man. Learning of the reputation 
he had for wealth and timidity, the provost marshal of 
Charleston sent one of his employees with a message to the 
effect that he was going to arrest Mr. Wagner on the charge 
of treason, and the agent confidentially informed the un- 
happy gentleman that he, the agent, had great influence 
with the provost marshal and that for a trifling sum of ten 
thousand dollars judiciously used he thought he could save 
Mr. Wagner from the ignominy and discomfort incidental 
to a long sojourn in a dirty jail, as well as an expensive trial 



Mr. Trenholm is arrested 245 

for treason, a crime the punishment for which was death. 
Badly frightened, Mr. Wagner hurriedly produced the 
money, and was left in peace. 

Laughing in their sleeves, the officials decided that if a 
junior member of the firm of Fraser, Trenholm & Co. could 
be so easily separated from such a large sum of money, un- 
told wealth might be obtained from the head of the house, 
especially as that head had been a member of Jefferson 
Davis's Cabinet. So one sad day the colonel in command 
at Columbia sent for Mr. Trenholm and told the old gentle- 
man that he regretted to say that he had received orders 
from the commanding officer at Charleston to arrest him 
and send him forthwith to that city. The colonel was very 
courteous and told Mr. Trenholm that if he would give his 
word to report to the commanding general in Charleston 
without delay, he (the colonel) would not place him under 
restraint or send him there under guard. Mr. Trenholm 
thanked him for his consideration and of course gladly gave 
the required promise. 

That night Mr. Trenholm and I, carrying two portman- 
teaus, in one of which he had placed a very large sum in 
twenty-dollar gold-pieces, entered his carriage and we drove 
to Orangeburg, about forty miles away where we could take 
a train, as the railway between Orangeburg and Charleston 
had not been destroyed. When we arrived at the station in 
Charleston we were shocked at seeing a company of negro 
soldiers drawn up on the platform waiting for Mr. Tren- 
holm. As the train came to a stop the white captain of the 
colored company boarded the car and walking brusquely 
up to the old white-haired gentleman demanded to know if 
his name was Trenholm. On being answered in the affirma- 
tive, he ordered Mr. Trenholm to come with him. I followed 
Mr. Trenholm closely, and when we stepped on to the plat- 
form the officer demanded to know who I was, and Mr. 
Trenholm assured him I was only a young friend of his who 
had accompanied him on the journey from Columbia; but 



246 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

the satrap was taking no chances, and as the soldiers closed 
in around us, he ordered me to "fall in," telling me I could 
explain at the jail. This was indeed a shock, as I had thought 
that of course a man of Mr. Trenholm's position would first 
be taken before the commanding general. It was a long and 
rough march over the rough cobblestones on some streets 
and through the mud of those which were not paved. There 
were negro soldiers in front of us and on either side, and 
behind us. One would have imagined that we were two 
desperate criminals from the way all possible escape was 
guarded against. Arriving at the jail I of course followed, or 
attempted to follow, Mr. Trenholm through the door, as I 
took it for granted I was expected to do, but a gruff voice 
called out, "Stop that man!" and instantly a brutal negro 
soldier reversed his musket and with the butt struck me a 
fearful blow in the pit of my stomach. I staggered across 
the sidewalk and sat down on the curb where in my agony 
I vomited blood. Had I been an injured dog less notice 
could not have been taken of me than was shown by the 
negro soldiers. After sitting with my feet in the gutter for 
some time, with a great effort, I stood up, and as no one 
objected I staggered away from the accursed place. I had 
been warned not to go near Mr. Wagner's house for fear of 
complications; it was therefore necessary for me to find a 
place where I could stay, and after a long and weary walk 
I saw a sign in a window in Calhoun Street announcing 
"Rooms for Rent." I engaged a room on condition that I 
would produce my baggage before I occupied it, and having 
Mr. Trenholm's checks and keys for his baggage, after a 
short rest I started out again to walk to the station to get 
the two heavy portmanteaus. There were no cabs in the 
place, so I hired a man with a wheelbarrow, and placing the 
portmanteaus on it I trudged alongside until they were 
unloaded at my new place of abode. I did not know the 
people who lived in the house and I was afraid to leave the 
room while all that gold was in one of the frail pieces of lug- 



Mr. Trenholm in the Common Jail 247 

gage. I felt sick and weary and had no appetite, so I was 
well content to go supperless to bed. 

The next morning I had to take chances and go out, for 
two reasons, first, because it was necessary for me to get 
some information as to how I could manage to see Mr. 
Trenholm, and secondly, on account of the fact that the 
people of the house declined to furnish me with meals. I 
started out with the intention of trying to find some officer 
of the regular army, as I felt assured that when I told such 
a one that I only wanted to talk to Mr. Trenholm about 
private family affairs he would assist me. But I was even 
more fortunate than I had dared to hope, I ran into the 
arms of a naval ensign who had been a classmate and cap- 
tain of my gun's crew on the old frigate Constitution when 
I was a midshipman at Annapolis ! He was a big fellow by 
the name of Dichman and he was then on the admiral's 
staff. As he threw his arms around me he exclaimed, "Well, 
Little Morgan, I have caught you at last! What can I do 
for you?" I told him of my trouble and how necessary it 
was for me to see my friend, who was in the jail, and he said 
he thought he could manage it for me, and he did. 

When I entered the jail with my permit I found Mr. 
Trenholm confined in a felon's cell which had only lately 
been vacated by a convicted murderer who had been re- 
leased when the general jail delivery took place on the fall 
of Charleston. The only thing Mr. Trenholm had to sleep 
on was the dirty straw this wretch had left behind him. 

While I was in the cell the door was left open and the 
sentry paced up and down in the corridor. Mr. Trenholm 
found occasion to whisper to me quickly that he wanted me 
to find Mrs. Henry King and ask her to take charge of the 
gold and keep it safely for him. Mr. Trenholm was the 
trustee of Mrs. King's small estate; he had been a friend of 
her father, Mr. James L. Pettigrew, a lawyer of national 
reputation, and a famous wit. Mr. Pettigrew had been a 
consistent Union man. He had died during the war, and 



248 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

among his friends, when living, he had numbered Abraham 
Lincoln, President of the United States, and when Charles- 
ton was captured Mr. Lincoln had instructed the military 
and naval authorities in the city to afford Mr. Pettigrew's 
family every protection and to show them every attention. 

Mrs. King was a young and beautiful widow; also an 
authoress of some local renown; but she was more famed for 
her powers of witty repartee than she was for either her 
beauty, which was great, or her literary efforts. It was of 
this lady that the story was told about the novelist Thack- 
eray. When he visited America, and was presented to her, 
he boorishly said, " I am glad to meet you Mrs. King, for I 
have heard that you are the fastest lady received in society 
in Charleston"; and Mrs. King replied, "I also heard that 
you were a gentleman — we have both been misinformed!" 

It was nearly nine o'clock at night when I found Mrs. 
King's house and sent in my name, as I had no card. The 
servant left the front door open and I could plainly see in 
the brightly lighted parlor a number of army and navy 
officers in their blue uniforms. Suddenly there appeared in 
the hall a vision of loveliness in a white muslin dress who 
asked in a soft and musical voice what my business was. I 
told her, in almost a whisper, that I had come from Mr. 
Trenholm with a request, and she hastily put her forefinger 
to her pretty lips and made a sign to follow her. She led me 
to the end of the hall, and there I whispered to her what 
Mr. Trenholm wanted her to do, and she told me at once to 
go and get the gold and bring it to her. She seemed some- 
what surprised when I told her it was heavy and that as it 
would not be safe for any one to walk through the streets 
at that hour with a valise, as there were no policemen and 
outrages were occurring every night, I would have to bring 
it in my pockets and make several trips before I could de- 
liver it all into her keeping. 

In about half an hour I returned to the house and the 
manservant who received me, chuckling with laughter for 



Mrs. King hides the Gold 249 

some reason, showed me the way to the back door where I 
waited for a moment while Mrs. King excused herself to her 
guests before coming to meet me. She led the way upstairs 
to her bedroom, and directing me to help her we pulled off 
the coverings of a bed that was dainty enough to be the 
resting-place of a fairy. We then rolled back the upper mat- 
tress and I began to unload the yellow double eagles. The 
breast and tail pockets of my coat were filled with the 
handsome coins, as also were my vest pockets, my trousers 
and hip-pockets, and while I was thus engaged the beautiful 
lady, standing on the opposite side of the bed, was engaged 
in spreading them over the lower mattress. We then re- 
placed the upper mattress, and I could not help but laugh 
when I realized the extraordinary situation in which I found 
myself, assisting a strange lady in the making-up of her bed ! 
Mrs. King was laughing, too, but for a different reason. Her 
cause of merriment was so good that she could not keep it 
to herself. Everybody knew that Mr. Wagner had paid ten 
thousand dollars to keep from being arrested when nobody 
had any intention of arresting him, and Mrs. King's joke 
was that the provost marshal, who had scared Mr. Wagner 
out of the money, and the commanding general, were both 
present among her guests downstairs. 

It was late when I finished my last trip and had assisted 
Mrs. King in secreting the last coin, and her other guests 
had long since taken their departure. Mrs. King informed 
me that she had utilized one of my temporary absences by 
cajoling the commanding officer into giving her a permit to 
visit Mr. Trenholm in the jail, and she appeared there early 
the next morning. 

The day after Mr. Trenholm was incarcerated, the com- 
manding general sent a carriage to the jail, and Mr. Tren- 
holm, accompanied this time by a white officer, was placed 
in it and driven to headquarters. The general received him 
in his private office, and at first was very courteous, but 
changed his attitude before the interview closed. Mr. 



250 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Trenholm told me that the first thing the general said to 
him was, "Mr. Trenholm, I suppose that you know you 
were arrested by my orders and that I am the only man 
who can release you." Mr. Trenholm said that he replied, 
"I am very sorry to hear you say that." And on being 
asked by the general why he was sorry, Mr. Trenholm 
told him that it was because he now realized that it would 
be useless for him to hope to be set free, for he said to the 
general, "If you had any intention to free me without the 
payment of money, you would never have had me arrested, 
and as I regard it as disgraceful to offer a bribe as to accept 
one, I do not propose to part with a cent for the purpose 
of obtaining my freedom!" The general touched a bell, 
the door was opened, an orderly saluted, and the general 
commanded that the guard appear, and Mr. Trenholm 
was returned to the jail — but not in a carriage. A cor- 
poral's guard of negro soldiers marched him there. 

My permit to visit Mr. Trenholm still held good and I 
went to the jail every day and several times saw Mrs. 
King there — the gay and debonnaire Mrs. King, sitting 
on the dirty straw softly crying while the courtly old pris- 
oner tried to comfort her. One would have imagined that 
it was the woman who was held in durance vile instead 
of her tall and stately trustee with his handsome face and 
white hair. I was not allowed to take anything into the 
jail for my friend, but Mrs. King was "a duchess who could 
do as she chooses," and took him many little comforts. 

After Mr. Trenholm had been in jail for several days I 
was informed that he was to be sent to Hilton Head on 
Port Royal, where there was a large garrison stationed at 
the time. One of my naval officer friends kindly interested 
himself and got me a permit to go to Hilton Head on the 
same boat that was to take Mr. Trenholm there. I did not 
trust myself to go to the jail on -the day of his departure, 
but went on board of the boat and waited for him there. 
When he appeared he was as usual surrounded by his negro 



General Gillmore, U.S.A. 251 

guard. This was an intentional humiliation, as there were 
large numbers of white soldiers in Charleston, and in addi- 
tion to the negroes a company of whites was stationed at 
the jail. When the boat started, Mr. Trenholm was al- 
lowed to sit on a bench on the upper deck and I was per- 
mitted to take a seat beside him, and the moment I did so 
a negro soldier seated himself on the other side of him. 

Arriving at Hilton Head we waited on the boat for some 
little time while an officer went ashore, probably to find 
out what disposition was to be made of his prisoner, for 
as soon as he returned he ordered Mr. Trenholm to be 
brought ashore, and then accompanied by the guard we 
marched to a neat-looking cottage occupied by General 
Gillmore as his headquarters. As we halted in front of the 
cottage a splendid, soldierly-looking man, came out, and 
extending both hands to Mr. Trenholm, exclaimed, "My 
dear sir, I am distressed to see you in this position. What 
can have brought you here?" Mr. Trenholm explained and 
added that he regretted very much that their very pleasant 
acquaintance of some years past, when General Gillmore 
had been stationed at Charleston, should be renewed 
under, to him, such humiliating circumstances. General 
Gillmore ordered the guard dismissed and invited the 
prisoner into his house where he offered us refreshments. 

As near as I can remember. General Gillmore said to 
Mr. Trenholm: "I can see no reason for your arrest at this 
time. You could not escape even if you wanted to. You 
had better go back to your home. The boat you came on 
returns within the hour. You had better, however, give 
me your written parole that you will come back whenever 
I send for you." In less than an hour we were on our way 
home, free men, and without a guard ! 

General Gillmore's courtesy and consideration for an ante- 
helium friend cost him 'dear. The general in command 
at Charleston resented his action in freeing Mr. Trenholm, 
and reported the matter to Washington, with the result 



252 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

that General Gillmore was relieved of the command at 
Hilton Head, and the sequel of his kind action was hardly 
less serious for Mr. Trenholm, as he had hardly got home 
before an order came from Washington to rearrest him and 
imprison him in Fort Pulaski below Savannah, Georgia. 



CHAPTER XXIX 

Mr. Trenholm and others of Mr. Davis's Cabinet imprisoned in Fort Pulaski 
— I make a hurried trip to New Orleans to engage counsel — I get married — 
Study (?) law — General Daniel E. Sickles orders Mr. Trenholm's home re- 
turned to him — I become a widower — Yellow fever saves me from being on 
board of the fated Evening Star. 

I WAS not allowed to accompany Mr. Trenholm to Fort 
Pulaski. The after effects of his release were no less unfor- 
tunate for the other members of President Davis's Cabi- 
net than they were for himself. They were all, with the 
exception of Mr. Benjamin and General Breckinridge, who 
had made good their escape, at once arrested and sent to 
Fort Pulaski. A rumor spread amongst us that they were 
to be tried on the charge of high treason, and Mr, Tren- 
holm's family thought it advisable that I should make an 
effort to see him and find out his wishes as to retaining 
counsel to defend him at the trial which we all believed to 
be imminent. My only hope of getting a permit to visit 
the fort lay in the persuasive powers of Mrs. King, who 
said, of course, she could obtain one for me, and she did. 
When I entered the casemate where these elderly and dis- 
tinguished men were confined, it was a sad sight, indeed. 
Their only apparent comforts were the cots on which they 
sat in the daytime and slept at night. The tide ebbed and 
flowed under the floor of their apartment, and through 
the spaces between the planks I could see the water at high 
tide and the muddy bottom at low, and the stench from 
the mud was most unpleasant. 

I consulted with Mr. Trenholm, and he directed me to 
go to New York as quickly as possible and retain the serv- 
ices of Mr. William M. Evarts, one of the most distin- 
guished lawyers of that time, and then to proceed to New 
Orleans and engage my elder brother. Judge P. H. Morgan 
(who was a Union man), for the same purpose. 



254 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

The railroads throughout the South had been so torn 
up by the Union armies that to go from Charleston to New 
Orleans it was necessary first to go by sea to New York 
and then either take a steamer for New Orleans, or else 
go by rail to St. Louis, Missouri, and there take a river 
steamboat and go down the Mississippi, a long and tedious 
trip, and a most uninteresting one, for of all the great rivers 
in the world the scenery of the lower Mississippi is prob- 
ably the most monotonous. 

Arriving at New Orleans, I found my mother and two 
unmarried sisters at my brother's house. These latter had 
suffered much from privation and want in the Confederacy, 
and were now suffering more mentally on account of the 
attitude of their former friends, who, despite the fact that 
two of our brothers had given their lives to the Southern 
cause, and that I had served "from the crack of the first 
gun to the end of the war," shunned them as though they 
were unclean because they had taken refuge from star- 
vation in the house of a brother who was a Union man. 
A notable exception, however, was the devoted friendship 
shown them by the Misses Ada and Marie Pierce, who 
were, not only in my opinion, but in that of the public 
generally, the two most beautiful girls that New Orleans 
could boast of. I suppose that this generation cannot 
understand such a state of feeling, and really it was for 
the most part indulged in by people whose male relatives 
had funked going into the Confederate Army and whose 
women-folks had suffered no inconvenience and had lost 
nothing. Their extreme patriotism did not extend that far. 

I remained only a few days in New Orleans and returned 
to New York on the same ship which had brought me 
there a week previously. I was accompanied by my brother 
and my sister Sarah. Leaving Judge Morgan in New York, 
my sister and I continued on our journey to Columbia, 
South Carolina, where we found the Trenholm family 
still in the greatest distress on account of Mr. Trenholm's 



I GET MARRIED 255 

imprisonment in Fort Pulaski and the uncertainty as to 
what his fate was to be. I overheard a "truly loyal man'* 
say that "if the United States Government did not hang 
Jeff Davis's Cabinet soon, the chills and fever would shake 
the life out of them before a rope could be placed around 
their necks." When this kindly gentleman was asked how 
the prisoners spent their time, he replied, "By watching 
the ' fiddler ' crabs through the chinks of the floor as they 
crawled over the mud and slime when the tide was out, and 
twiddling their thumbs when it was in." 

There was a very influential party in the North which 
clamored for the hanging of Jefferson Davis and his Cabi- 
net and a carpetbag United States district attorney even 
went so far as to issue a warrant for the arrest of General 
Lee, but General Grant here stepped in and caused the 
warrant to be quashed. Mr. Trenholm's lawyers could 
do nothing for him, as President Johnson declined to dis- 
cuss his case with them, but the Reverend A. Toomer 
Porter, rector of the Church of the Holy Communion, 
which Mr. Trenholm attended when at home in Charles- 
ton, went to Washington and persuaded the President to 
grant him a pardon. One of Mr. Trenholm's lawyers, a 
Mr. Campbell, of Charleston, sued Mr. Trenholm for a 
fee for his services in obtaining the pardon, and although 
the President of the United States stated that he had re- 
fused to discuss the matter with Mr. Campbell, the jury 
gave a verdict in the latter's favor for fifty thousand dol- 
lars. There were some queer juries in the South in those 
unsettled times, and one of the jurymen in this case was 
heard to say that Mr. Trenholm was a rich 'man and it 
served him right, as it was a good thing to put some of the 
thousands of dollars he had made in blockade-running into 
circulation. Mr. Trenholm was pardoned in September, 
1865, and I was married in October, and at once went 
to New Orleans via New York and St. Louis. 

Not appreciating the handicap of my defective educa- 



256 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

tion and the fact that the life I had led since I was fifteen 
years of age was not conducive to preparing me for any of 
the learned professions, I decided to enter Judge Morgan's 
office, matriculate at the University of Louisiana, and study 
law. My cousin H. Gibbes Morgan was a student in the 
office, and I was very fond of him, and that made the pros- 
pect all the more pleasing. But try as I would I could not 
concentrate my mind on those dry law books or atten- 
tively listen to the lectures which were given by distin- 
guished civil-law lawyers; and besides. New Orleans was 
very gay at that time, as there was plenty of Northern 
money there, and planters could still borrow on mort- 
gages at ten and twelve per cent. The city was under mili- 
tary government, and it was only later when the Recon- 
struction policy turned the State over to the carpetbaggers 
and negroes that the natives began to feel the real pinch 
of poverty. I must confess that dinners at Victor's and 
Moreau's, in the city, and at old Jules Coch^'s restaurant 
on the Lake Ponchartrain shore, appealed to me more than 
did the Code Civil, Justinian, or Blackstone. Then, too, 
I had a fast trotting horse whose health and speed required 
a great deal of exercise on the shell road extending from 
the city to the lake — needless to say the horse got it. But 
oh, those dreary hours spent in that office while Gibbes 
Morgan worked, and my brother in the back room wrote 
briefs. I would sit in a sort of stupor blankly gazing at a 
law book while I whistled the air of a popular song of the 
day called "Beautiful Dreamer out on the Sea," which 
scandalized the serious judge and almost drove him frantic. 
My brother had been elevated to the bench when he was 
only twenty-six and he regarded the study of the law as a 
serious proposition not to be whistled down the wind. In 
that law class there was a young man by the name of Ed- 
ward D. White, who afterwards became Chief Justice of 
the Supreme Court of the United States, and that was as 
near as I ever came to a great lawyer. 



Yellow Fever 257 

While I was in New Orleans General Daniel E. Sickles, 
U.S.A., was placed in command of the Department of 
South Carolina with headquarters in Charleston. Mr. 
Trenholm having some business with him one day. Gen- 
eral Sickles told him that he had much admired his beau- 
tiful home on Rutledge Avenue, and asked Mr. Trenholm 
why he did not live in it, and seemed very much surprised 
when Mr. Trenholm told him that it had been seized when 
Charleston was captured and had been used ever since for 
a negro school. General Sickles said he would very soon 
fix that matter, and summoning an officer he ordered him 
at once to turn the negroes out of Mr. Trenholm's house 
and turn the property over to him. The people of Charles- 
ton took great offense at General Sickles driving a coach 
and four, as in their poverty they resented this show of 
affluence, but they lived to see the day when they regretted 
General Sickles's removal from the command, as his suc- 
cessor made life for them very unpleasant. 

When I returned with my wife to Charleston in the 
spring of 1866 we found Mr. Trenholm and his family com- 
fortably established in their beautiful home, and all went 
well until the month of September, when a little girl was 
born; and ten days afterwards my wife died of the fever 
which was then prevalent in Charleston, and I was left a 
widower and not yet twenty-one years of age. 

I wrote to New York and engaged passage in the ship 
Evening Star for New Orleans and proceeded to New York 
myself by the next steamer. Arriving in New York I went 
directly to that paradise of Southerners, the old New York 
Hotel on Broadway. I went to my room and at once was 
taken very ill. I must have had the seeds of yellow fever 
in my system and the change to a cooler climate must have 
developed the disease. I must have been unconscious or 
out of my head for some thirty-six hours when, fortunately 
for me, Dr. John T. Metcalf, an eminent physician, called 
at the hotel, and glancing over the register saw my name 



258 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and sent up his card. The bellboy returned and said that 
there was some one in the room moaning, but that he would 
not open the door. Dr. Metcalf was an intimate friend of 
Judge Morgan, and he insisted that the door should be 
forced. Seeing my condition at a glance, he had me wrapped 
in blankets and carried to his waiting carriage and took 
me to his home, then on Fourteenth Street, where he 
nursed me back to life. While I was ill at his house the ill- 
fated Evening Star left for New Orleans with several hun- 
dred passengers on board, including three or four theatri- 
cal troupes, and she went down off Tybee Island on the 
coast of Georgia and only two men and one woman in a 
small open boat were saved. 

When I had sufficiently recovered, I took passage for 
New Orleans in the steamer Merrimac and found among 
my fellow passengers the family of Mr. John Watt, who 
were taking with them to New Orleans Miss Ada Pierce, a 
very dear friend of my sisters. My meeting with Mr. Watt 
was somewhat embarrassing, as less than three years before, 
when in the cruiser Georgia, I had captured off Cape Town 
the fine sailing ship John Watt, named for him and in which 
he was largely interested. 



CHAPTER XXX 

Try cotton-planting with the usual sailor's success — Better success following 
the hounds — Charles Astor Bristed; "Man is a gregarious animal" — 
Drayton Hall — Discovery of the phosphate rocks — Visit Philadelphia — Go 
on the New York Yacht Club cruise — General McClellan — General W. S. 
Hancock views the yacht race. 

Arriving in New Orleans I tried to resume the study of 
the law, but met with rather worse than indifferent success. 
A proposition from two gentlemen who had married cousins 
of mine, that I should furnish the money and join with them 
in planting the old "Hope Estate" plantation, where so 
many happy days of my boyhood had been passed, appealed 
to me strongly. There are few naval officers who do not 
imagine that if they only had a small farm they could make 
their fortunes, and I was no exception to the rule; and yet it 
is a strange fact that most sailors commenced life as farm 
boys. There is an old story in the navy about a sailor on the 
"lookout" during a storm, who, being lashed to the fore- 
stay to keep him from being washed overboard, when a big 
sea swept over him was heard to exclaim, in the stillness of 
the mid watch, after a mountain of water had passed over 
his head, "And to think, by gum, I sold a farm to go to sea ! " 

Well, on the rich sugar land our cotton plants grew beauti- 
fully. I looked over the immense field one afternoon and 
the cotton blooms, red, white, yellow, and blue, gave it the 
appearance of a garden of flowers. I gazed on that same 
field the next morning, and as far as the eye could reach 
there was nothing to be seen but leafless and bare bushes. 
The army worm had got in his fine work of destruction over- 
night. 

I returned to Charleston and made my home with my 
young brother-in-law, Frank Trenholm, who at the age of 
sixteen had been an aide on the staff of General Beauregard. 
He afterwards served on the staff of General D. H. Hill, 



26o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and also as aide-de-camp to General States Rights Gist 
who, when shot at the battle of Franklin, died in his arms. 
I believe seventeen Confederate generals were killed in that 
bloody fight. 

Colonel Alfred Rhett had a pack of hounds — he was no 
less famous as a sportsman than he was as a duelist. He and 
his brother, Major Burnett Rhett, were tireless fox-hunters 
and often the colonel and Frank Trenholm would join their 
packs so as to have a fuller cry, and many a glorious run we 
had behind them. In those days one could get up a fox any 
time within four miles of the city, and we frequently jumped 
up a deer within six or seven miles from the Town Hall. 
The men were superb horsemen and many a marvelous feat 
of horsemanship I saw performed during those hunts. 

It would be difficult for this generation to understand the 
mental attitude of the people of South Carolina when under 
military government and afterwards while under the hor- 
rible orgy of crime called the "carpetbag government." 
Atlanta, Norfolk, and Savannah had welcomed Northern 
capitalists and they were prospering by leaps and bounds, 
but Charleston would have nothing to do with those whom 
they called "Northern vandals," and the consequence was 
that Charleston remained dead. All weapons had (sup- 
posedly) been taken away from the people, save one, and 
that one the Charlestonian knew how to use with most 
extraordinary effect. It was the right to ostracize the 
stranger, and the native who gave him countenance. One 
instance of the deadly effect of the use of this social weapon 
made an impression on me. It was that of the case of Mr. 
Charles Astor Bristed, a grandson of the first John Jacob 
Astor. Mr. Bristed was a man of great wealth, and of lit- 
erary tastes ; he was refined to the tips of his fingers, and of 
course in New York moved in the most select of the inner 
circle of society. He was in bad health and had been advised 
to seek the mild winter climate of Charleston. He brought 
with him letters of introduction to several prominent people 



Charles Astor Bristed 261 

in Charleston, among them Mr. Trenholm. On his arrival 
he was delighted with the air and the quaint beauty of the 
place and at once bought a pretty home on the "South 
Battery" facing the Ashley River. He confided to Mr. 
Trenholm that he had large sums of money lying idle in 
New York banks and made inquiry as to what rates of 
interest could be had for it in Charleston. He was amazed 
when Mr. Trenholm told him that he could place it on 
absolutely safe security for ten or twelve per cent, but that 
Heaven only knew what rate he could get for it if he felt 
disposed to take any chances. He asked Mr. Trenholm to 
place the amount (according to my recollection it was some 
two or three hundred thousand dollars) for him. After 
several months' sojourn he one day went into Mr. Tren- 
holm's counting-house and asked him to sell out his securi- 
ties and his residence, and when Mr. Trenholm expressed 
surprise, Mr. Bristed told him that "man was a gregarious 
animal and it was necessary to his happiness that he should 
hold communication with other human beings." He per- 
sonally thanked Mr. Trenholm for the courtesy he had 
shown him, adding, "You and young Morgan are the only 
two gentlemen who have darkened my door in all the months 
I have been here" — and Mr. Bristed and his money left 
Charleston, to be seen there no more. 

In those days the family connection unto the fortieth 
remove was considered a sacred relation and that was the 
reason some of the Southern clans were so powerful — nous 
avons change tout cela. My grandfather's sister, Anne 
Morgan, had married Mr. Thomas Stanyarn Gibbes, of 
South Carolina, and one of her granddaughters, Miss 
Augusta Gibbes, of New York, had married the second John 
Jacob Astor, and that was sufficient reason, besides Mr. 
Bristed's agreeable personality, for me to show him what 
little attention was within my power. 

In connection with the Charlestonian*s repugnance to 
being brought into contact with Northern people, it should 



262 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

be remembered how cruelly they had suffered and that their 
hardships were far from being over, and that they were a 
proud people who were willing to endure poverty in silence, 
but they did not care to have strangers see the many shifts 
they were forced to resort to in the privacy of their homes, 
while they carried their heads so high and presented such 
a bold front before the rest of the world. 

We rarely know what is best for us in this world, and the 
helpless people chafed under martial law and called their 
soldier rulers "military satraps"; but these men did not 
pillage the State as did that robber crew who came into 
power when the so-called civil government was established 
under the Reconstruction laws which so nearly caused the 
destruction of the Commonwealth. Besides, the regular sol- 
diery made the evilly disposed negroes behave themselves. 
The , blacks had not generally as yet fully realized their 
changed estate and as a people behaved fairly well until the 
carpetbagger arrived. 

Early vegetables for the Northern market as a means of 
recouping Southern fortunes was becoming a burning ques- 
tion, and I espoused the cause enthusiastically, and selected 
one of Mr. Trenholm's plantations on the Ashley River, 
about ten miles above Charleston, for the scene of my 
operations. I made a crop of potatoes all right, and shipped 
them to New York, and what I got for them was a bill from 
the middleman for expenses incurred in having them carried 
to the dump. But there were plenty of deer, foxes, wild 
cats, wild turkeys, and quail in the neighborhood and I had 
plenty of sport. My m6nage at Vaucluse (the name of the 
plantation) was not a very luxurious one. I fitted up a two- 
room shanty, one room serving me as bedroom, sitting- 
room, and dining-room, and the other as a kitchen. I had 
an old negro woman to cook for me and a rascally boy 
named Philip to wait on me. 

There had once been stately colonial mansions on these 
plantations along the banks of the Ashley River, many of 



Discovery of the Phosphate Rocks 263 

them built with brick brought from England, but only 
Drayton Hall remained standing at the time I was there. 
When Charleston fell, gunboats came up the river and 
wantonly knocked down one after the other of these splen- 
did residences. When the Drayton family heard the cannon 
they were at dinner and rushed out of the house, thinking 
that it would soon be tumbling on their heads. None of 
them returned to it for six months or more. When the gun- 
boat stopped in front of Drayton Hall, the old negro butler, 
a man whose first name was Jack, and who had always been 
a slave of the Dray tons, got into a log canoe and paddled 
out to the warship and implored the captain not to destroy 
Admiral Drayton's house; and the officer, not wishing to get 
into trouble with an admiral, spared it. Jack knew as much 
about the Drayton genealogy as did any member of the 
family; and he knew perfectly well that Admiral Drayton, 
although belonging to the same family, did not own a brick 
in the building. This Admiral Drayton was with the United 
States fleet at the battle of Port Royal where his brother 
General Drayton commanded the Southern forts. 

Although at Drayton Hall and the neighboring planta- 
tions there were hundreds of negroes, and not a single white 
man nearer than Charleston, when the Drayton family re- 
turned after an absence of several months they found their 
silver and other property untouched. The dishes and plates 
with the viands and vegetables on them, now thoroughly 
dried, stood where they had been left when the family fled 
from what they regarded as a doomed building. 

It was while I was at Drayton Hall that Professor Francis 
Holmes, a geologist, and a brother of Mrs. George A. 
Trenholm, showed Dr. Pratt, a chemist, a deposit of phos- 
phate rock on his plantation, about three miles below 
Drayton Hall. Dr. Pratt already knew the value of the 
material, having made an analysis of a sample picked up at 
some other place. It was due to this discovery that I had 
the pleasure of becoming acquainted with Mr. George T. 



264 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Lewis, Mr. Samuel Grant, Mr. Fisher, and several other 
gentlemen from Philadelphia who came to Drayton Hall, 
as it was the only decent habitation in that part of the 
country. It did not take these gentlemen long to look over 
the field and buy up thousands of acres. 

When I visited Philadelphia afterwards these gentlemen 
and their families showed me the greatest hospitality. A 
number of them had beautiful country places at Torresdale 
on the Delaware River, and many were the happy days I 
spent there. 

Mr. Charles Macallister, Jr., invited me to accompany 
him on the cruise of the New York Yacht Squadron. His 
yacht, the Scud, was the smallest schooner in the fleet and 
in dimensions a veritable toy boat. Her crew consisted of a 
sailing master and two men before the mast. Macallister 
usually took her to New York via the canal, but on a dare, 
Macallister and I took her down the river, through Dela- 
ware Bay, and passing Cape May put boldly out into the 
Atlantic and headed for New York. The Scud had a centre- 
board and an open cockpit, and she was not very weatherly 
even for so small a boat. Off Bamegat Light there came on 
a moderate gale of wind and the cockpit was the cause of 
our very nearly foundering, as occasionally a sea would 
come over and fill it, almost waterlogging the little craft 
and rendering it necessary for us to spend all of one night 
bailing it out with buckets. But we reached port all right 
and spent several pleasant days in New York before joining 
the squadron. 

While at New York Mr. Macallister met General George 
B. McClellan, an intimate friend of his father, and invited 
him to go for a sail up the Sound. I found the general to be 
a most affable companion, and when he learned that I had 
been a witness of the battles of Seven Pines (Fair Oaks) and 
of the Seven Days, he seemed to take an interest in me. 
Mr. Macallister told him about a cartoon I had seen in a 
Richmond paper in 1862 representing the general at Harri- 



General Hancock views Yacht Race 265 

son*s Landing, embracing a sailor, and saying, "Jack, a 
gunboat is a glorious institution — there ought to be one in 
every family ! " The general laughed most heartily over this 
story. We brought the general safely back to New York, 
and the next day sailed for Glencove on the Sound, where 
we joined the yacht squadron. There were some twenty-five 
or thirty yachts anchored there and the only steamer in the 
fleet was the flagship. What a difference from to-day (1916) 
when hundreds of yachts assemble on these occasions and 
the majority of them are steamers or power boats! 

At Newport there were the usual yacht races, and Gen- 
eral Winfield S. Hancock, U.S.A., consented to accept Mr. 
Macallister's invitation to go out on the Scud to witness the 
finish of the principal contest of the big yachts to Block 
Island and back, but only on the condition that the Scud 
was to carry the least possible amount of sail. For a little 
while I thought the general was timorous on the water, but 
when we saw the Dauntless, Phantom, Vesta, Fleetwind, and 
the other big schooners of that day coming back, and gain- 
ing on us, as we steered for port, the general became very 
enthusiastic and insisted that we should set every stitch of 
canvas there was on the boat rather than be passed. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

Receive a commission as captain in the Egyptian Army — Hurried trip to 
Egypt with nineteen other ex-Union and Confederate officers — Alexandria — 
Call an Oriental bluff — Cause small panic in hotel by opening windows during 
the "kempsine" — In uniform — Presented to the Khedive — American offi- 
cers in Khedive's army — Letters of President Davis and General R. E. Lee. 

In 1869, General W. T. Sherman, U.S.A., visited Egypt, 
and the then Khedive, Ismail Pasha, gave him a most cor- 
dial reception, making him many handsome presents, 
among them diamonds of such value for his daughter that it 
puzzled the poor general for some years to raise the neces- 
sary amount which a grateful government demanded for the 
custom-house dues charged upon them. The Khedive took 
General Sherman into his confidence and told him of some 
of his troubles. He complained of the ne;cessity his French 
officers were under to consult the Imperial Government 
at Paris before they could obey his orders. He asked 
General Sherman if it would be possible for him to get 
American officers who had so recently (at that time) been 
engaged in actual war. The result of the conference was that 
it was decided to ship the French officers home and send for 
twenty Americans, ten from the Northern army, and ten 
Southerners. I was fortunate enough to be offered one of 
the commissions. 

It was the common rumor at that time that the Khedive 
intended to attempt to throw off the yoke of his nominal 
master, the Sultan of Turkey, to whom he had to pay a 
heavy tribute. Naturally w^e American officers were anxious 
to get to Egypt before the anticipated fray began, so we 
hurried on board of an Inman Line steamer, the City of 
Washington. For those days the liner was a very fine and 
large ship of nearly four thousand tons. She was full ship 
rigged and very fast. It took us only twelve days to make 
the passage to Liverpool, in which city we spent three hours 




^ F' *a' 



LIEUTENANT-COLONEL MORGAN 

Egyptian Army, 1S70 



Alexandria 267 

waiting for a train for London. In London we lingered for 
an hour before starting for Paris. In Paris we stayed four 
hours and then took a train for Brindisi, Italy. We crossed 
Mont Cenis on a railroad built with three lines of rails, the 
centre rail being cogged, and a cog wheel on our engine 
fitted into the cogs and thus pulled us up the steep inclines. 
(My great-uncle, Dr. John Morgan, has left an account in 
his journal of how he crossed the same mountain in 1763 on 
muleback for part of the way and was carried in a sedan 
chair the rest.) We stopped in Brindisi for only five hours 
while waiting for the Austrian mail steamer from Trieste 
bound for Alexandria, Egypt, where we arrived seventeen 
days from the time we left New York. 

In Alexandria we were surprised to find no preparations 
for war. Nobody was talking about war, or thinking about 
it either, and I must confess our advent did not arouse any 
enthusiasm that I could detect. The first good advice given 
us was to discard instantly our hats and replace them with 
the tarboosh, or red fez, before we sat down at a meal, as it 
was as much an offense to uncover the head in the presence 
of a Moslem as it would be to sit at table with one's hat on 
in a company of Christians. 

No one had received us at Alexandria, and we were at a 
loss to know whom we were expected to report to, or where 
we were to go. The day after our arrival, however, we re- 
ceived a summons to appear before one of the many "AH 
Beys" who throng the land of the true believer, and of 
course we at once jumped to the conclusion that he must be 
a very high official of the greatest importance. We were 
conducted to his house and shown into a tiny garden where 
we were left standing while the great man put us through 
the favorite stunt of "heel-cooling," in which species of 
mild torture the Mexican himself cannot surpass the Ori- 
ental — in fact the Mexican learned it from the Spaniard, 
who was taught by the Moor, who in turn acquired it from 
the Arab. We were kept standing there until one of the 



268 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

party became so weary, that, supposing none of the serv- 
ants could understand English, he exclaimed that he 
"would be something or othered if he would stand for an- 
other minute"; almost instantly the supposed great man 
appeared among us as though by magic. He was haughty 
and seemed displeased. Having sufficiently impressed us 
with his superiority, he magnanimously ordered chairs, 
coffee, and chibouks, and waved his hand in a manner we 
understood to mean that we were to be seated. He opened 
the pour-parler by telling us that we might as well under- 
stand in the beginning that there were too many of us, and 
that those whom he decided to retain would have to agree 
to a reduction of one or two grades, as the grades we had 
"assumed" were preposterous. The conversation was car- 
ried on in French, and pointing to me he demanded to know 
how old I was. On being told that I was twenty-four, and 
on being informed that I aspired to hold a commission as 
captain of heavy artillery, he could contain himself no longer 
and gave way to laughter. He asked what pay I expected to 
receive and was shocked to hear that my contract called for 
the same pay and emoluments as those received by the same 
grade in the United States Army, and when told what they 
were he almost burst with indignation, saying that no colonel 
in the Egyptian Army received such an enormous sum for 
his services. I also was beginning to feel "peeved," and 
drawing myself up said in English to my companions that I 
was going to take the first train to Cairo for the purpose of 
finding out who was responsible for the practical joke which 
had brought me seven thousand miles from home to be in- 
sulted, and when I found the man, I was either going to get 
satisfaction, or that I was going to horsewhip him publicly! 
I know that this sort of talk would be considered awfully 
bad form in these days (191 6), but I lived in another cen- 
tury — autres jours, autres mceurs. 

One is never safe in supposing that an Oriental does not 
understand a foreign language. It is a common trick of 



Call an Oriental Bluff 269 

theirs to pretend not to be able to speak any but their own 
lingo. The bey changed his attitude instantly, and told 
General Stone that he hoped the general understood that 
what he, the bey, had said was merely tentative, and an 
expression only of his own opinion, and that he hoped the 
matter would go no further, etc. He then informed us that 
he would send a man to show us to the railway station where 
we would be provided with transportation to Cairo. 

When we left the garden I feared that General Stone was 
going to give me a reprimand, but instead, as the gates 
closed behind us, he burst out laughing and said, " Morgan, 
that was about as pretty a call-down of a bluff as it ever 
was my good fortune to witness. ' ' We afterwards discovered 
that "Ali Bey" was a subordinate official of the railway 
department, and had simply been "ordered to furnish us 
with transportation, and to show us every attention^'; and 
that he spoke English as well as any of us, and had I not 
called the bluff he would have tormented us for an hour 
longer. 

It was about nine o'clock at night when we reached Cairo 
and we at once went to the Hotel Oriental located on the 
Ezbekiah, the great public square. We were all tired and 
asked to be shown our rooms at once. 

The Egyptians keep their houses closed in the daytime 
to keep out the heat in the same manner that people of 
Northern climes keep out the cold, but in the evening the 
doors and windows are opened until daylight when the cool 
air of the night is confined in the house. This is the rule 
except when the "kempsine," called so because it blows for 
fifty days, is in season. This wind is a species of sirocco 
which comes from the desert laden with fine particles of hot 
sand which gets into the eyes, nostrils, and throat, causing 
great discomfort. The kempsine was blowing when we ar- 
rived, but we knew nothing of it. In the middle of the night 
I awoke with a parched throat and would have given any- 
thing for a little ice water, but ice was a rare luxury at that 



270 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

time in Egypt, and not furnished by the hotels : their water 
was cooled by evaporation in clay "monkeys." I felt that 
I must at least have a breath of fresh air, so I got up and 
went into the hall w^ere I discovered to my great amaze- 
ment that the windows were all not only closed, but also had 
weather strips more completely to keep out the air. A bril- 
liant idea struck me that this condition accounted for the 
suffocating atmosphere in the building and I proceeded to 
open every window I could find, — and then, proud of my 
work, returned to my room. In about fifteen minutes there 
was an uproar in the house. Men were excitedly calling 
down maledictions on the head of the person who had 
opened the windows. I understood plainly the feelings of 
the man who exclaimed, "God damn!" — also the fellow 
who hissed, " Sacr6 nom d'un petit bonhomme"; " Sabre 
de bois " ; " Pistolet de paille " ; " Baton parasol " — which, 
to a man who understood the languages, meant the same 
thing. But it is always the unknown that is most dreaded, 
and it was enough to make one's blood curdle to hear the 
guttural anathemas of the Arabs, Albanians, Armenians, 
Greeks, Syrians, Turks, Russians, Italians, and represen- 
tatives of a few other nationalities who patronized that 
hostelry. Their oaths, I imagine, were something terrible. 
I never confessed to being the culprit — it was useless, as I 
had already heard the opinions of the British and French, 
and I could not speak the other Janguages, so it would have 
been unfair to confide my secret to only two nationalities. 

The next morning, early, a tailor arrived with orders to 
take our measures for uniforms as the "Effendina" ("lord 
of lords") wished us to be in uniform when presented, and 
he did not wish to be kept waiting — and he was not. It 
was not conducive to long life for a subject to keep Ismail 
Pasha waiting. 

The undress uniform was single-breasted and had nine 
black buttons down the front, an exact reproduction of the 
coat of a Presbyterian parson. The full dress was as gorge- 



Presented to the Khedive 271 

ous as the undress was simple. A blue coat with gold epau- 
lettes, gold chevrons on the arms, indicating the rank, gold 
aiguillettes, and gold sword belt. The trousers were of the 
reddest red imaginable, with a gold stripe running down the 
legs at least two inches wide. The saddle-cloths were em- 
broidered with gold flowers. Of course on our heads we 
wore the red tarboosh with its long black tassel. When I 
rode down the street I looked so much like a streak of light- 
ning that one would have been justified in listening for 
thunder after I had passed by, and that, too, in a country 
where it never, or hardly ever, rained in those days. 

The day for our presentation to His Highness arrived and 
in full regalia we appeared at the Abdeen Palace where we 
were drawn up in line, in front of the absolute despot. Ismail 
Pasha, the Khedive, was a very short man and very rotund ; 
he had a swarthy countenance as well as a very severe ex- 
pression; his eyes were piercing and not at all kindly, yet 
his manner was most courteous. He stood at one end of the 
grand reception room, surrounded by his Cabinet and 
courtiers. One at a time, according to rank, we were es- 
corted by two officials to within a few feet of His High- 
ness, where the officials as well as ourselves stopped and 
made the salaam, in which we had been drilled for some days. 
It consisted in bending the right knee and making a gesture 
as though we were picking up dirt with the right hand and 
touching our hearts, lips, and foreheads with it. This sa- 
laam had been modified for the officers so that it made a 
very graceful military salute. The Khedive returned each 
salute with a similar but very much abbreviated one. He 
spoke but a few kindly words to each one of us, and told us 
that at some future time he would make occasion to talk 
with us more fully. The Khedive, followed by the assembled 
company, then led the way into another splendid apartment 
where iced sherbet, coffee, and cigarettes were served, and 
after the function was over we entered our carriages and re- 
turned to the hotel. For several days we roamed about the 



2'] 2 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ancient city seeing the sights, being warned to keep away 
from the mosques until we became better acquainted with 
the people or were accompanied by a native who could tell 
them that we were under the special protection of the 
EfTendina. Cairo had not yet become the stamping-ground 
of tourists. Foreigners were curiosities, and the true be- 
liever's hatred for the accursed Giaour, or " Christian dog," 
was something that he was very proud of. A fanatic was 
liable to make trouble at any moment. Talking about 
Cairo reminds me that in those days I never met an Arab, 
outside of the educated class, who had ever heard of such 
a city; they call it "El Masr." 

The American officers in the Egyptian Army while I was 
there were Major-General Thaddeus P. Mott; Brigadier- 
Generals Charles P. Stone, W. W. Loring, and Sibley ; Colo- 
nels Reynolds, Rhett, Jenifer, Frank Reynolds, Purdy, 
Vanderbilt Allen, Kennon, Ward, and Dunlap; Lieutenant- 
Colonel Long; Majors Campbell, Mason, and Hunt; Captain 
Paris, and one or two others. After I had been some time in 
the Egyptian Army, Mr. Trenholm forwarded me the fol- 
lowing letters, the originals of which are now in the Con- 
federate Museum in Richmond : — 

Memphis, Tenn., 2^l}l April, 1870. 

J. M. Morgan. 

My dear Sir: — 

Since fortune decrees that you should seek in foreign service 
a field for the exercise of your military talents, I am glad to know 
that you have chosen the service of the Viceroy of Egypt. The 
enlightened policy which has guided his administration, as it did 
that of his illustrious father, renders his the most attractive 
service which a foreigner could find. Your naval education and 
experience in actual war will, I hope, secure you an early oppor- 
tunity to make manifest the capacity of which your youth gave 
promise, and to secure for you a name worthy of those from whom 
you are descended. 

With best wishes for your welfare and happiness, 

I am very truly yours, 

Jefferson Davis. 



Letter of General R. E. Lee 273 

Savannah, Georgia, i8th April, 1870. 
Mr. J. M. Morgan was an officer in the Confederate service 
during the late war and served both on land and sea. So far as 
my knowledge extends, he performed the duty assigned him satis- 
factorily and deported himself in every respect as a gentleman. 

R. E. Lee. 



CHAPTER XXXII 

The Egyptian Army — Eunuchs important beings — Polyglots — Anecdote 
(from court gossip) about the two Schnieders — Adventuresses — The per- 
manent secretary — The bounding horse Napoleon — Did n't cut His High- 
ness — Napoleon gets me in and out of trouble about being too fresh with a 
Princess, a flower, and a dainty lace handkerchief — The Khedive orders a 
wedding to amuse the Empress Eugenie — Divorce — Harems (pronounced 
hareems). 

The Egyptian Army consisted of some sixty thousand 
men. The forts were in a dilapidated condition and mostly 
manned only by caretakers, so I was glad to find that my 
first duty was to be on the personal staff of the Khedive. 
The staff was very large, and besides the military officers 
there were six equerries in most gorgeous uniforms. I had 
absolutely nothing to do and spent most of my leisure in lis- 
tening to court gossip, sub rosa, of course. What astounded 
me most amid my new surroundings was to find that the 
eunuchs, whom I had always thought of as contemptible 
creatures, were in reality beings of great importance, and 
that some of them enjoyed the confidence of the ruler even 
in state affairs, and that they were all treated with the 
greatest deference by the highest officials. I was warned 
on no account to offend one of them, as they had it in their 
power to do harm to any one, no matter what his rank might 
be, to whom they took a dislike. 

In the evenings after the heat of the day, we Americans 
would sit at little tables on the sidewalk in front of the 
"circles," or clubs, of which there were several located on 
the Ezbekiah, and pass the time drinking cooling drinks 
and talking. We soon made many acquaintances and were 
astounded to find amongst them so many men who could 
converse in half a dozen or more languages; the Armenians 
and Russians especially had this gift, and many were the 
amusing stories and scandals these polyglots related to us 
about court life. 



The Two Schnieders 275 

There were very few European or American ladies in 
Cairo at the time, and the Armenian, Syrian, and Greek 
women lived very much the same secluded life as did the 
native females, and like them never went abroad unless 
veiled. This they did for their own protection against in- 
sult, as no Moslem could understand that a woman with 
her face uncovered could be respectable. 

The Khedive maintained at his own expense a magnifi- 
cent Italian opera house which he had built for the presenta- 
tion of Verdi's "Aida," which was composed for him. He 
also had an op6ra-boufTe company, and a French comedy 
troupe, a hippodrome, and circus. For female society, with 
a few exceptions, we were dependent upon the ladies on the 
other side of the footlights. The Khedive was very fond of 
the company of the stars of the theatres, and, in whispers, 
a very amusing piece of gossip was told about one of his 
experiences with a Madame d'Albert, prima donna of the 
op6ra bouffe. Madame d'Albert was beautiful and sang 
like a bird, but like most beauties she was capricious, and 
when in one of those moods had not the slightest respect for 
either royalty or stage managers. On one occasion the 
Khedive and his courtiers were seated in the boxes when in 
the middle of the opera something displeased the *'song 
bird" and she refused to sing any more, so the curtain had 
to be rung down. His Highness was furious and sent for the 
manager of his theatres, a French doctor, who had become 
Burguerre Bey, and swore by the beard of the Prophet that 
he would no longer submit to D'Albert's whims, and 
ordered Burguerre to telegraph the Rothschilds, who were 
his financial agents in Paris, to send on at once Mademoi- 
selle Schnieder, the most famous op6ra-bouffe prima donna 
in Paris. Now it happened that at that time the Khedive 
wanted a loan, and the Rothschilds were negotiating for it 
through Baron Schnieder, a very old man, a banker, and the 
president of the Imperial Senate. Burguerre Bey, never tak- 
ing into account the possibility of there being two Schnied- 



276 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ers, sent his telegram, which read, " Envoyez Schnieder coCite 
qui coCite"; and the Rothschilds, not being theatrical 
impresarios, took it for granted that the message related to 
the loan, and against his protests, hurried the old banker 
Schnieder off to Egypt. When he arrived at Alexandria a 
harem carriage, escorted by a couple of royal eunuchs, was 
waiting for him on the dock. He was hurriedly taken to the 
railway station where a special train with one of the royal 
coaches was waiting. He was whirled up to Cairo, placed 
in another carriage and driven to a palace in the suburbs, 
where he was received by more eunuchs and told that he 
was immediately to take a bath. The old gentleman ob- 
jected, but they told him it was the Effendina's orders. 
After he was well boiled in the Turkish bath he was laid on 
a couch in the recuperating room, and while there, probably 
thinking of the comforts of home, who should appear, in 
dressing-gown and slippers, but the Khedive himself ! See- 
ing the old human derelict, the lord of lords threw up his 
hands in amazement and exclaimed, "In the name of the 
Prophet, what are you doing here?" and old Schnieder 
replied, "God only knows!" Explanations followed. Old 
Baron Schnieder secured the loan on his own terms, and 
shortly afterwards the Khedive secured his song bird, and 
all ended happily. 

The Khedive was an admirer of European women, and 
also lavish with his money. If he dropped his handkerchief 
to one of them, and she picked it up, her fortune was made. 
This became known in Europe, and before I left there many 
were the beautiful adventuresses who came to Cairo seeking 
their fortunes. 

There was a little Italian by the name of Barro. He was 
merely an adventurer, and a penniless one at that. He went 
to Cairo and after looking over the situation disappeared 
for a time. When he returned he was accompanied by a 
wife, the most marvelously beautiful woman my eyes ever 
beheld. Shortly after his return Barro was appointed pri- 



The Bounding Horse 2"^] 

vate secretary to the Khedive and was made a bey. He 
lodged in magnificent apartments and set up a carriage. 

In the British departments of the Government there is 
always an official who does not lose his job when there is a 
change of political parties in power — he is called the "per- 
manent secretary." The Khedive had many flames, but 
Madame Barro seemed to occupy a position among them 
similar to that of the British permanent secretary. 

Concerning my own adventure, it is necessary to explain 
that from my boyhood I had been an expert trick rider and 
some of my feats caused even the Bedouins to take notice. 
They rode with such short stirrups that it would have been 
impossible for them to accomplish the same stunts. 

When the Empress Eug6nie was the guest of the Khedive 
on the occasion of the opening of the Suez Canal, among 
many other beautiful gifts he presented her with a bay 
Arab stallion. Now this color is unusual, as most Arab 
horses are gray. The Empress was so encumbered with 
presents that she left many of them in Egypt, and among 
them the bay horse. From that time the horse was called 
"Napoleon." The Khedive next presented him to General 
Loring, who was an old cavalry officer and a fine horseman, 
but General Loring had left an arm on the battle-field at 
the storming of the Belen Gate when the City of Mexico 
was captured by the American troops. The horse was a 
plunger; he seemed to be on springs, and could bound into 
the air and keep up his bounds like a bouncing ball for a 
hundred yards or more without cessation, and at every 
leap take all four feet clear of the ground to a height of four 
or more feet. It is necessary to humor the mouth of a 
plunger, and General Loring could only shorten his reins 
by carrying them to his teeth, which Napoleon came near 
jerking out the only time the general ever mounted him. 
So Napoleon was passed on to me. I liked the bounding and 
could send him up into the air whenever I pleased by simply 
pressing him with my knees. 



278 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

One afternoon I was riding Napoleon beneath the gigan- 
tic fig trees which line the sides of the beautiful Shubra 
drive when I noticed quite a commotion among the throng 
of people in carriages, on horseback, and on foot, who were 
taking their recreation after the heat of the day was over. 
The carriages and horsemen, as well as those on foot, stopped 
and stood facing the road. Then I heard the sats yelling 
their familiar cries of "Owa! Owa! Riglek! Eminak! Shu- 
malak! " etc., which in English would mean " Clear the way! 
Keep to the right ! Keep to the left ! Look out for your face ! 
For here comes the lord of lords, your master!" etc. The 
fellahs, or peasants, fell on their knees and placed their fore- 
heads on the ground. The better classes went through the 
motions of picking up dirt and touching their hearts, lips, 
and foreheads. I apparently took no notice of who was 
coming behind me and kept on my way unconcernedly. As 
the dozen or more sats, stafT in hand, and the great white 
sleeves of their costumes fluttering like wings behind them, 
passed me with the speed of frightened deer, they furiously 
called down maledictions on my head. Then, at the gallop, 
came a troop of cavalry of the Life Guards, whose com- 
manding officer seemed to fear that I intended to cut His 
Highness and cautioned me as he went by. Next came the 
royal equipage with four horses guided by postilions, and 
on either side of the carriage rode an equerry. Men told 
me afterwards that they had held their breath in awe for 
the instant, as they wondered what would happen to the 
man who apparently intended to cut the EfTendina in 
public. 

But I did not keep my audience long in suspense. As the 
leaders of the royal landau passed me I sent Napoleon into 
the air and coming down landed him front face, still as a 
statue, at the same time making my military salute. The 
Khedive half turned in his seat and leaning over the side 
of his carriage clapped his hands in applause, and shortly 
afterwards sent an equerry back to tell me to come along- 



The Bounding Horse 279 

side his carriage, where he complimented me on my horse- 
manship. 

One of the Khedive's sons, little Prince Ibrahim, a boy of 
about twelve years of age, took great delight in seeing 
Napoleon leap, and when driving with his governor, an old 
English general, as a treat would be allowed to send for me 
to come alongside his carriage where he could better see the 
"bouncing" horse, as he called my charger. 

On one occasion the bounding horse came near getting 
me into very serious trouble. I was riding on the famous 
Shubra promenade when a gorgeous carriage, in which 
were seated two ladies with very thin white veils covering 
their faces, approached. I was new to the country and did 
not recognize the signs of a royal equipage or know that cus- 
tom required that I should turn my back, or at least look 
in some other direction; so, ignoring the etiquette of the 
court, I not only looked at the houris, but also pressed 
Napoleon with my knees and sent him up into the air. The 
ladies not only smiled, but also looked out of the window at 
the back of the carriage and one of them threw out a flower. 
My horse was at the gallop and throwing myself out of my 
saddle I picked it up without breaking his stride or parting 
company with him. The lady evidently liked the circus 
performance, for she kept on throwing flowers. Her carriage 
was accompanied by two splendidly mounted eunuchs and 
two more of these creatures were seated on the box. The 
mounted guard was well ahead, so they did not for a time 
see what was going on, but when we arrived at the railway 
crossing there was a jam and I put my horse right alongside 
the carriage. The lady reached out and placed in my hand 
a bouquet with a dainty handkerchief wrapped around the 
stem. Then the trouble commenced. The eunuchs began to 
snarl and yell. The two horsemen dismounted and tried to 
get at me through the crowd. One was waving a scimitar 
and the other a courbash (a whip made out of rhinoceros 
hide) with which they could bring blood at every blow. I 



28o Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

stood the fellow in front of me off by making Napoleon rear 
up, but the creature with the scimitar was fast approaching 
through the tangled mass of vehicles from behind. Seeing 
an opening I sent my horse through it and at the railway 
bars which were down. We skimmed over the first one, but 
as we bounded across the railway I heard the express com- 
ing and, urging the game animal on, we leaped the second 
bar; and as we went over I wondered if Napoleon had saved 
his tail. Going on at full speed I turned into a very narrow 
street with the object of losing my pursuers, but there was 
an obstacle in the way, an old white-bearded Arab seated 
on a diminutive donkey, standing right across my path; 
but it was no time for hesitation, so I sent my horse at the 
jump, lifting him on the bit and striking the spurs deeply 
into his sides at the same time. The agile creature rose into 
the air like a bird, and as I passed over the Arab's head I 
heard him give a groan and exclaim, "Inch Allah!" ("It 
pleases God.") 

Arriving at my quarters, which I shared with Count 
Sala, one of the Khedive's equerries and a rich Armenian 
gentleman, I showed them my trophy, and to my amaze- 
ment they both advised me to go to the American Con- 
sulate while yet I had time. Mr. Ekezler offered me money 
to take me out of the city, which I indignantly declined, 
telling them that I had done no harm. They both hastily 
left the house, and in a few minutes Nubar Pasha, the 
Prime Minister, called on me and told me that "he had 
heard of my escapade and so had His Highness and he 
wanted that handkerchief." The flimsy piece of lace was 
lying on the table and I picked it up knowing by that time 
that he wanted it for evidence. I lit a match and set it on 
fire, almost instantly destroying every vestige of it. The 
Minister was in a rage and told me that I would hear more 
of the matter, and then left. That night when I went to 
my restaurant no one. Christian or Mussulman, would 
recognize me or hold any intercourse with me whatever, 



The Khedive orders a Wedding 281 

and afterwards, when I visited the clubs, they became 
emptied as though by magic. 

The trouble was caused by the fact that the hand- 
kerchief had embroidered on it a crown and the initials 
" P F" and was the property of one of the princesses. This 
lady was not unknown to fame on account of some of her 
escapades. She had the reputation of being somewhat of a 
" Marguerite of Burgundy," in that her lovers suddenly dis- 
appeared and were never heard of again. I heard that the 
Khedive was furious when he heard the story, but there was 
a Countess de Lex, wife of the Russian Consul-General, 
who had great influence at court, and she undertook to 
plead my cause and persuaded the Khedive that I was a 
mere foolish boy and had meant no harm, and so the 
adventure ended. I had never seen the Princess before, and 
certainly never saw her afterwards.^ 

The Khedive Ismail carried things with a high hand, as 
he, by the laws of the land, was entitled to do. When the 
French Empress visited Egypt, she was of course shown 
one of the harems, and womanlike of course expressed a 
desire to see an Egyptian wedding. A little thing like that 
was easy to arrange by a man who by simply clapping his 
hands could remove from this mundane sphere any one 
of his eight or ten millions of subjects. When the desire 
was expressed by the Empress to see a wedding, the hand- 
somest of His Highness's native equerries happened to be 
standing near. He was a perfect picture in his superb uni- 
form. The Khedive turned to him and told him to go and 
prepare himself to be married on the following day. Ibra- 
him replied with the usual "To hear is to obey." 

Now this preparation to be married must have been 
quite an ordeal, as besides the baths there were a certain 
number of visits to be paid to mosques and many prayers 
to be said. The Khedive politely asked the Empress to 

* For an account of this adventure see " My Life on Four Continents," by 
Col. Charles Chaill^-Long, formerly of the Egyptian Army. — J. M. M. 



282 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

choose the bride, and it was said that she showed great 
taste in selecting a beautiful Circassian girl. This poor child 
must have suffered dreadfully while they arrayed her in 
her wedding garments and then covered her from head to 
foot in a gaudy, heavy, gold-embroidered wrap. Not even 
her eyes nor the tips of her little feet could be seen, and 
in this guise with the drums and shrill reed instruments, 
which screeched in awful discord, and the "fantasia" (men 
pretending to fight with spears and swords) preceding her, 
from early morning to sundown she had to promenade the 
streets under the scorching sun with no relief from any 
source except the fans waved by the hands of two shape- 
less bundles of clothes, said to have contained girl friends 
of the bride inside them. This weary function lasted until 
the sun went down, and the ceremony was completed by 
her arrival at the house of the groom into which she was 
followed by her female relatives or friends. Even then 
she had another ordeal to go through — the lifting of her 
veil, which is done by the groom; and once he has seen her 
face, she is married. But the bridegroom does not get his 
wife yet, as she is then taken back to her former home 
where she stays for a week before she returns to live for 
good and all with her lord and master. 

Divorce is easy. All that a husband has to say to his 
wife is, "Thou art divorced," when he gets into a tantrum, 
and the wife of his bosom has to return to her parents* 
However, he can take her back again, if he wants to, unless 
he has said to her, "Thou art thrice divorced!" — in which 
case she must marry some one else and get a divorce from 
number two, before she can remarry her former master. 
This is easily managed by the rich, who free a slave, have 
him marry the divorced woman, and then quietly have the 
slave bowstrung. All of which is very simple. 

The power of the Khedive went far beyond entertaining 
an empress by making two people, who had never seen each 
other before, get married. An official of the palace could 



Harems 283 

go into the field of a fellah, and by simply saying, "In the 
name of the Effendina," make him stop work in his own 
field and go into that of His Highness, or into any one 
else's, for that matter, and labor without reward. His 
officials could in the same way commandeer any vehicle, 
horse, ox, ass. They could go to the riverside and com- 
pel any dahabeah (the Nile boat) to interrupt its voyage, 
discharge its cargo, and perform any service which the 
representative of his master ordered him to do; and this 
silently and without protest. This custom was of course 
much abused by officials without the knowledge of the 
Khedive. The rights of foreign governments, however, 
were very scrupulously respected, and any Egyptian sub- 
ject who could get any sort of employment by a consulate 
was deemed fortunate, as neither he nor his property was 
interfered with; and these protections were eagerly sought 
after by the rices, or owners of dahabeahs. It was said that 
the price of American flags fell suddenly, and they fluttered 
from the mastheads of an extraordinary number of boats, 
enabling their owners to laugh at the command to heave to. 
One word more about that much misunderstood (by 
Christians) word "harem." It does not mean, as is gener- 
ally supposed, a collection of odalisques, but it is the equiva- 
lent of our word "family," and includes not only the wives 
and children, but the mothers and grandmothers, the aunts 
and cousins, and their female slaves. A wealthy man 
maintained a great number of women in his harem because 
it was a part of his state to do so, and the greater the num- 
ber, the greater the consideration in which he was held. 
Ismail Pasha had many palaces containing harems into 
which he had never put his foot; they were his harems, but 
possibly were legacies from his predecessors. The Khe- 
dive's mother always made him a present of a beautiful 
Circassian or Georgian girl on his birthday, and It is very 
probable that he never took the trouble to see any of them. 
How could they, without a thought beyond making toilets 



284 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and eating candy, interest a highly intelligent and edu- 
cated man accustomed to the best society of Europe? 

Much sympathy has been wasted on the Oriental women 
by their Christian sisters. Under no circumstances would 
the Moslem ladies change places with them. A Mohamme- 
dan woman measures the affectionate esteem in which she 
is held by her lord and master by the number of eunuchs 
who accompany her when she goes abroad, and the close- 
ness of the watch kept upon her while in the harem; and 
yet she has a certain amount of liberty. For instance, no 
husband can refuse a childless wife permission to go alone 
to Dhamanour to sit on the sacred stone which is believed 
to be a sure cure for barrenness, and no one who has ever 
attended the feast of Dhamanour, and witnessed the scenes 
there enacted, leaves with the slightest doubt about the 
efficacy of a visit to Dhamanour in such cases. And there 
also is the right to visit the public baths. No eunuch is 
permitted to accompany a woman further than the en- 
trance, and the woman has the right to remain in the baths 
as long as it suits her pleasure. Closely veiled and with a 
voluminous silk gown covering her from the top of her 
head to her toes, there is nothing to prevent her from enter- 
ing the door and immediately turning around and walking 
out again, passing right by her guardian without his knowl- 
edge; for where there are dozens of similar bags containing 
women, what mortal eyes could distinguish any particular 
female? And woe betide the eunuch that interferes with 
any lady not belonging to his master's harem. Such is the 
love of adventure among foreigners that many have been 
willing to risk the awful penalties of invading a Mussul- 
man's home so as to be able to boast afterwards that they 
had been inside of a harem. By treaty with the great 
powers a Moslem has the right to put to death any man 
caught in the act of so doing. 

The eunuch is as a rule faithful and devoted to his mas- 
ter, and the master indulges the creature in every way. 



Harems 285 

Many of these things are very wealthy, and strange to 
say, they buy beautiful slaves to wait upon them in their 
own private homes, and their conversation is almost en- 
tirely restricted to the subject of women and their perfec- 
tions. Of course there are some disloyal scoundrels among 
the eunuchs, at least there were said to be. I remember one 
in particular who was nearly seven feet in height and as 
slender as a flagstaff. I do not know that he was unfaith- 
ful, but at all events he made a very good income by mak- 
ing gullible young men believe that he was. His method 
was very simple; he would hang around Shepheard's Hotel 
and pick out some rich young tourist and tell him that a 
wonderfully beautiful inmate of his master's harem had 
seen him and fallen in love with him, and as she was his 
(the eunuch's) favorite, he had consented to assist her in 
her love affair, and that if the proposed victim would make 
an appointment with him, as his master was out of the 
city, he, the eunuch, would facilitate their meeting, etc. He 
would then accompany his dupe through dark and narrow 
streets to the rear of the garden wall surrounding his mas- 
ter's palace, unlock a small door and lead him into the 
grounds, and when he had got him some distance inside 
he would turn upon him and demand a large sum of money, 
threatening to give the alarm if it was not instantly forth- 
coming. Sefar Pasha, the brute's master, and an apostate 
Austrian who had amassed great wealth and also stood 
high in the esteem of both the Sultan and the Khedive, 
used to get great merriment out of the facetiousness of his 
confidential slave. He used to say that doubtless more 
Leanders boasted of having invaded the sacred precincts 
of his harem than that of any other pasha or bey, but he 
doubted if any of them ever boasted of the amount it cost 
them simply to pass the garden gate. Sefar undoubtedly 
was in the confidence of the rascal. When Arabi Bey 
raised his rebellion in Egypt the inmates of Sefar Pasha's 
harem, in common with many others, were turned out 



286 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

on to the streets of Cairo to prevent their starving inside 
of their gilded cages. 

The first wife of a Moslem is selected for him by his 
mother or nearest female relative ; the second wife is chosen 
by the first; numbers one and two choose the third; and 
one, two, and three select the fourth; and it is said that 
they search the harems for the most beautiful girl that can 
be found. The reason for this is that Moslem women are 
not supposed to have souls, but a true believer can have as 
members of his houri harem in paradise as many of his 
earthly wives as he chooses, so the only chance of a here- 
after for the women is to please their lords so well that said 
lords will ask for them when they get to paradise. 



CHAPTER XXXIII 

Egyptian Army splendidly drilled in manual of arms and tactics — American 
officers dine with the Effendina — Sham battle — Napoleon disgraces me — 
Feast of the Dosse — Marriage of the Nile — Offend Arabi Bey and am sent to 
Rosetta — Sailing on the great canal — Rosetta — A deserted palace — See 
ghosts which turn out to be lepers — Accept hospitality of an Armenian — 
Commander of garrison not overjoyed to see me. 

When we American officers entered the Egyptian Army 
it was composed of some sixty thousand well-drilled men. 
The French officers who had preceded us had done won- 
ders with them in this respect, and in the manual of arms 
it would have put the West Point cadets on their mettle 
to have excelled any infantry regiment of the line. The 
Egyptian rapid formation of squares from fours to whole 
brigades was a marvel to us. Ever since Napoleon beat 
off the Mameluke cavalry under the shadow of the Pyra- 
mids their whole idea of military strategy centred on the 
formation of squares. 

We had not been very long in Egypt before some forty 
thousand men of all branches of the service were gathered 
around Cairo to take part in a grand sham battle. I was 
temporarily assigned to General Stone's staff for the occa- 
sion. General Stone was to command one army and Lieu- 
tenant-General Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the 
Egyptian Army, was to command the other. 

The evening of the day before the battle, the Khedive 
gave a grand banquet to which the American officers were 
invited. On the right of His Highness sat Nubar Pasha, the 
Prime Minister, and on his left General Charles P. Stone, 
chief -of -staff. Opposite the Effendina sat General Loring, 
with me, away out of my rank, on his left. My being placed 
so far above many officers who should have had my seat 
of honor was because Loring could not speak French, the 



288 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

language of the court, and needed me to interpret for him, 
and also to assist him, as he had but one arm. 

"Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." While the 
banquet was magnificent, there was one sinister formality 
which gave me the creeps. Alongside of the Khedive's dinner 
plate was another and larger plate which was never removed 
between the courses. When a dish was passed to His High- 
ness he helped himself plentifully, — he was a good trench- 
erman, — and then he cut his portion in two and placed half 
of it on the extra plate; and when we were through dinner 
the Khedive's private chemist took the plate and contents 
and carried them to his laboratory where he analyzed them 
in a search for poison. This performance, I was told, was 
gone through after every meal. 

During the dinner His Highness said a few pleasant words 
to each of the American officers — to me he said that he 
would look forward to seeing "that bounding horse" on the 
morrow, and asked if I thought so nervous an animal would 
stand fire. General Stone answered, laughingly, that with 
me on him, he would have to stand fire. I had intended to 
ride a more sedate charger, but after that remark, which I 
regarded as a challenge, I decided to ride Napoleon — and 
Napoleon disgraced me. 

At a critical time during the action General Stone sent 
me with an order to the pasha commanding his artillery to 
move certain batteries, which were massed on a small knoll, 
to another position, as Ratib Pasha was trying to pass some 
troops, under cover of another hill, to a position in their rear. 
The infantry were blazing away down the whole line and I 
passed like a whirlwind along the whole length of it, going 
so fast that "Naboleone" (as the natives called him) could 
not have stopped if he had wanted to; but alas, as I dashed 
among the heavy guns, which were making a fearful uproar, 
and came to a halt in front of the pasha, saluted, and was 
passing him the order, I felt myself sinking, and I continued 
to sink until my feet were on the ground, while the poor 



Feast of the Dosse 289 

frightened brute shivered between my legs. The horse was 
actually so terrified by the artillery that his legs had given 
way under him and he was resting with his belly on the 
sand. I used the spurs, but they had no effect. The pasha 
smiled in an amused way and maliciously told me to return 
and report to the general that the order would be obeyed, 
I knew as well as he did that I could not move, but I gave 
him a surprise by telling him that it was necessary for me to 
remain until the change had been made. That was too much 
for even the stoicism of the Arab pasha and I could dis- 
tinctly hear his loud laugh despite the booming of the guns. 
When the artillery stopped firing preparatory to limbering 
up, Napoleon sprang into the air with a wonderful bound 
and as he came down to earth again he started to run. I 
made no effort to stop him, being too thankful to escape 
from my ridiculous position. 

The day after the sham battle we attended the feast of the 
Doss6 where we saw fanatics lie on their backs as close to- 
gether as sardines in a box, and form a living pathway five 
hundred or more yards in length. The thousands of specta- 
tors formed living walls on each side of this human road, and 
then came some fifty priests in front, and as many behind, 
the high priest, mounted on a snow-white stallion, and they 
walked over the prostrate bodies. The horse alone showed 
any disinclination to step on the human beings. He had to 
be pushed from behind to make him put his foot on the 
first body, and they had much difficulty in making him do it. 
The Arabs pretend to believe that the prostrate fanatics are 
so holy that the hoofs of the horse do not hurt them, but I 
noticed that the instant the animal passed over a body the 
man was lifted up and carried away — not one was allowed 
to get up by himself, so no one could prove that any ribs 
were broken. As soon as the horse and rider reached the end 
of the living pathway, the immense throng of people made 
a rush for them and began to pull out the hairs of the ani- 
mal's beautiful flowing mane and tail for sacred relics. 



290 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

When they, or as many of them as could get near enough to 
pluck a hair, were satisfied, the horse's tail was as bare as 
that of a rat. He belonged to the Prophet's breed, as could 
be easily distinguished by the three red marks across the 
nose. These marks are inherited from Mohammed's mare, 
and were caused by the Prophet having, after some great 
victory over the accursed unbeliever, wiped the blood from 
his dripping scimitar with his fingers and then wiped the 
gory fingers on the nose of his mare. No one save the Sul- 
tan, the Khedive, the Sheik Ul Islam, and one or two other 
high church dignitaries are allowed to mount horses of 
this breed. 

This feast of the Doss^, I am glad to say, is no longer tol- 
erated by Egypt's present rulers. Nor is the one of the 
"marriage of the Nile," when the banks of the river were cut 
and the water allowed to escape into the grand canal ; then 
they took a young virgin, arrayed in a bridal costume, in a 
boat to the middle of the river, and as the waters broke 
through the bank dumped her, bound hand and foot, over- 
board. 

I must say that at this time I very much enjoyed Cairo 
with its many state functions, but I suppose that General 
Stone thought that a little work would be beneficial for my 
health, for he sent me to the staff of General Loring, in- 
spector-general of infantry, and it did not take me very long 
to get myself into trouble with a very influential personage 
— one Arabi Bey, who afterwards headed the great rebel- 
lion. General Loring and I inspected his regiment which 
was stationed at the Abbassia, in the suburbs of Cairo. It 
was very early in the morning when the regiment was drawn 
up in line, and I became very suspicious about the number 
of men who were suddenly seized with a desire to pray. (A 
Mussulman has to pray whenever the notion strikes him, 
and under no circumstances must any one interfere with 
him when at his devotions.) A private would suddenly hand 
his gun to a man alongside of him, face in the direction 



Offend Arabi Bey 291 

he supposed Mecca to be, raise his arms, start his prayer, 
and we had to pass him by without inspection of either his 
uniform, accoutrements, or gun. It was a good ruse, but a 
cursory glance convinced me that a gun, badly out of order, 
was the cause of the devout feeling which had come over him, 
and in my notebook I recorded all of these weapons as unfit 
for service. General Loring incorporated these notes in his 
report, with the result that the Minister of War admonished 
Arabi, and Arabi defended himself by saying that the bad 
report was only caused by my religious prejudices, as could 
be easily proved by the fact that I had reported only the 
guns of men engaged in prayer as being out of order. The 
Minister sent for General Loring and myself and quite 
plainly intimated that if I expected to remain in Egypt it 
would be advisable for me to drop some of my Christian 
prejudices. I felt outraged, but at the same time flattered, 
as it was the first time I had ever been accused of harboring 
an excess of Christian zeal. General Loring was also angry, 
and he ordered me to re-inspect Arabi's regiment the next 
morning — and to bring some of the guns back with me, as 
samples. 

I arrived at the garrison about dawn and found Arabi 
seated on his prayer carpet, in front of his quarters, busily 
engaged in his devotions. I presented the order, and at first 
he refused to obey it, but on reflection he ordered out his 
command. The inspection was soon over, as I seized only 
half a dozen guns belonging to men engaged in prayer, 
knowing them to be the ones I wanted. I made my sais 
carry the guns, and returned to the general's quarters. I 
was ordered to take them to the citadel and show them to 
the Minister, who seemed to be as angry as Arabi was, de- 
spite the fact that the guns were disgracefully out of order. 
A few days afterwards I received an order to go to Rosetta 
to inspect some old cannon there which doubtless had not 
been used or cleaned since the day when Nelson's guns had 
roared at Aboukir. 



292 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

My orders were explicit. I was to embark on a dahabeah 
and go through the Mamoudeah Canal to the Rosetta 
Branch of the Nile and down that stream to Rosetta. I was 
to take my horse with me, and an Arab officer who spoke 
French was to accompany me as interpreter. The order 
also informed me that all necessary arrangements had been 
made for my comfort on the voyage and after I arrived at 
my destination. However, knowing something about Egyp- 
tian ways by this time, I took the precaution of having a 
large basket of provisions prepared for me at my restaurant 
— and well it was for me that I did so. For I not only did 
not find any food on the dahabeah, but I also found that the 
young Arab officer expected me to furnish him with rations. 

We sailed smoothly over the placid waters of the canal 
while I amused myself watching the novel scenery, the fel- 
laheen, male and female, old men and women, and little chil- 
dren working in the fields with their short-handled hoes, 
leading water from the smaller canals on the higher levels 
to the plants they wished to irrigate. The dignified ibis 
strutted fearlessly among them, or perched on the backs of 
buffaloes, seeking vermin, and their snow-white feathers 
made a pretty contrast to the black hides of the animals. 
Along the banks of the canal men were lifting water to the 
higher levels with the same machinery used by their fore- 
fathers in the time of Moses, namely, in baskets. 

As we glided along I was for a time much mystified by 
seeing boys of eight or ten years of age apparently stand- 
ing in the water up to their waists as the boat, which I 
knew drew five or six feet of water, passed so close that I 
could almost have touched them. I soon discovered that 
they were herders and were seated on the backs of water 
oxen which were feeding on the grasses which grew at the 
bottom of the canal. Each boy was armed with a sharp- 
pointed stick with which he prodded the beast when he 
wanted him to go ashore to resume work. 

I also made another discovery, and that was that Mah- 



A Deserted Palace 293 

moud, my interpreter, did not know as much French as I 
did Arabic, and this was not reassuring. 

At the end of my second day's journey I arrived at 
Rosetta at about nine o'clock at night. The moon was at its 
full, and the moon seen through the dry atmosphere of Egypt 
seems larger than it does in other lands. I had been told that 
every arrangement would be made for my comfort and I was 
glad to see two soldiers with a wheelbarrow come down to 
the landing-place. Mahmoud surlily tried to make me un- 
derstand something, but without success, and as the boat 
touched the landing he leaped ashore and I saw him no more 
that night. The soldiers put my trunk on their barrow and 
making signs for me to follow they led the way into the city 
with me trailing behind, leading Napoleon, whose iron-shod 
hoofs resounded on the cobble-stones. The buildings lining 
the street were of stone and magnificent in their propor- 
tions, but there was not a human being to be seen, nor a 
sound to be heard, save that made by my horse's feet and 
the squeaking of the rusty wheel of the barrow. After walk- 
ing for many blocks we entered what once must have been 
a grand palace with great stone columns in the court and 
most imposing stairs leading to the apartments above. 
Napoleon was made fast to a column, and I followed the 
men who carried my trunk upstairs, where they deposited 
my property in the centre of a room that must have been at 
least sixty feet long by about forty in width, and then they 
left me, I thinking, of course, that they were going away for 
the purpose of getting me some food and bedding for the 
horse as well as myself — but I saw them no more. 

I sat on my trunk for a long time watching the moonbeams 
that penetrated through the great windows, which were de- 
void of sashes as well as of curtains, until the loneliness be- 
came so oppressive that it became unbearable. A loud snort 
from Napoleon decided me to seek his companionship. I 
found the horse in a very nervous state, but my presence 
seemed to quiet him. I talked to him and soothed him, and 



294 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

when he seemed contented with his lot I went out on to the 
street to look at the moon and take a little stroll. The only 
living thing I met was a pariah dog that snarled and disap- 
peared through the entrance of a handsome house. While 
perfectly harmless to natives I knew that these wild dogs, 
especially when in packs, had a great aversion for Chris- 
tians, and where one was met it was certain that there were 
many more near by, so I determined to return to my palace 
where I again found Napoleon in a great state of excitement, 
making a clatter by pawing on the stone floor and snorting. 
It was some time before I could quiet him, and then I sat 
down resting my back against the column to which he was 
made fast. Wearied I dropped off to sleep, but was soon 
startled out of it by a loud snort. After soothing the animal 
I dozed off again, and this performance was kept up all 
night. At times when awake I thought I could see shapes 
flitting about among the shadows, but I soon came to the 
conclusion that what I saw was the result of my own im- 
agination. At last the horse quieted down seemingly re- 
signed to the situation, and I fell into a sound sleep and 
awoke only when the sun streamed into the portal. When 
I opened my eyes I was astonished to see a dozen or more 
wretched human beings standing within a few feet of me, and 
as soon as they discovered I was awake they commenced to 
clamor for backsheesh (alms), so my spectres of the lonely 
night had not after all been Cleopatras and Pharaohs, or 
the creation of my overwrought imagination. One of the 
horrible creatures became emboldened and came quite 
close to me extending his fearfully distorted hands. One 
glance and I knew that my guests were lepers. Horrified, 
I hastily saddled my horse and vaulted into the saddle, 
throwing some small coins on the stone floor as I dashed out 
into the street. 

At the full gallop I went, whither I knew not. Following 
the street to where its end touched the desert, I found a 
small bazaar around which some two hundred and fifty in- 



Accept Hospitality of an Armenian 295 

habitants lived in an almost deserted city which at one time 
had sheltered several hundreds of thousands, and which 
now eked out a scanty existence by supplying the niggardly 
wants of a small garrison of Egyptian soldiers. Rosetta 
had once been a great commercial city, but the silt of the 
Nile had deposited itself to such a depth at the mouth of the 
Rosetta Branch that vessels drawing more than three or four 
feet of water could not enter the port — and thus was 
ruined the commerce of the once flourishing city. Here it 
was that the famous "Rosetta Stone," the key to the hiero- 
glyphics, was found. 

At the little bazaar I procured a cup of coffee, and when I 
had finished it, an Armenian, who kept one of the booths, in 
perfect English offered for five shillings to interpret for me. 
I told him that I wanted food and shelter for my horse and 
myself, and he offered to accommodate me if I would ac- 
company him to his house — which of course I did. I never 
saw what the inside of his house looked like, as he never 
invited me to enter it. The Oriental Christian keeps his 
women-folks secluded almost to the same extent as do the 
Mussulmans. So my host lodged me in a small two-room, 
one-story, stone outbuilding where I occupied one room 
and my horse the other. Inducing the Armenian to accom- 
pany me, I went to the barracks and showed my orders to 
the bey, who seemed none too well pleased to see me. A 
young lieutenant was then called and instructed to show me 
the cannon that were to be inspected. My work was soon 
finished, and my report was very brief, but my instructions 
compelled me to remain in Rosetta until I received orders to 
return to Cairo, and I was suffering from a very bad case 
of nostalgia for Cairo. 



CHAPTER XXXIV 

Khedive always just to the American officers, but it was difficult to obtain 
an audience with him — Go to Alexandria with General Loring and occupy a 
royal palace — Difficult to get paid — Row with customs officials — An 
Egyptian military banquet — I have not rank enough to entitle me to a seat 
at the table — Cabal formed against General Stone — I am sent to the staff 
of Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army. 

My experience while in the Egyptian Army convinced 
me that so far as the American officers were concerned, they 
could always get just treatment if they could only get their 
cases before the Khedive ; but there was the rub. How was 
one to get an interview? This was generally a matter of 
long negotiation, as His Highness was surrounded by as 
unprincipled a set of scoundrels as ever accursed the throne 
of a prince. To get through this cordon was almost an im- 
possibility. Only one American officer could get an inter- 
view whenever he wished it, and that one was General 
Stone. Had he occupied himself with the troubles of the 
others, he would have had but little time to devote to his 
duties as chief-of-staff . 

General Loring was ordered to the command of the 
Department of Alexandria, and I went with him as aide- 
de-camp. An old, small, and dilapidated royal palace was 
assigned the general for his headquarters. They were very 
commodious and very uncomfortable. The faded brocades 
and silks of the curtains and divans were in rags, and moth- 
eaten rugs were scattered over the floors which did not look 
as if they had been swept since the days when some of the 
Pharaoh princes dwelt there. I spent one night under its 
roof and then fled to the H6tel d'Angleterre. The myriads 
of fleas and things, such as an occasional scorpion dropping 
on to a bed, were too much for me. 

It did not take us very long to discover that we were not 
welcome to the native officers and that we had been placed 



Difficult to get paid 297 

in the positions of op^ra-bouffe soldiers. For instance, the 
first thing General Loring did was to make a requisition for 
a headquarters guard of ten men. The answer from his sec- 
ond (?) in command was that so many men could not be 
spared for such a purpose. The general then demanded a 
roster, which was promptly returned reporting twelve thou- 
sand men fit for duty! The matter was referred to the 
Minister of War, who of course sustained the native pasha. 

Our pay had fallen in arrears several months and there 
seemed no help for it. As I have said before, there was no 
pay department. One month we would get an order for it 
on the Khedive's privy purse, and the next on a custom 
house — any place where there was supposed to be a little 
money, it did not matter where, and when we presented the 
order we were met with a bland "Boukrah" ("Come to- 
morrow"), and that was supposed to satisfy both us and 
our creditors. Now I had learned that the Khedive knew 
nothing of this state of affairs, and that he would be very 
angry if it should ever come to his ears — so I decided that 
I would either get my money, or it would get there. My 
patience was exhausted, and I determined to get either my 
pay or a row that would have to attract the attention of 
His Highness, so I buckled on my sword and pistol and went 
down to the custom house, on which I had orders for several 
months' pay, and was received as usual with great polite- 
ness and firmness and told as usual to "come to-morrow." 
With equal suavity I replied that I had come for my money 
and that I meant to have it — that I had any amount of 
leisure, and they could take their time about it. 

The custom house was situated on the harbor and the 
only entrance into the city was through a sallyport in which 
I took up a position amongst a lot of dry-goods boxes. By 
the rules of the port the custom house closed at four o'clock. 
At half-past three, I was told that I must leave the building, 
as none but employees were permitted to remain after that 
hour. I replied that I not only would not leave unless I 



298 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

received my money first, but that until I was paid no one 
else would leave unless they passed over my dead body, and 
I produced my regulation Colt from its holster. At this the 
official seemed to lose his half-contemptuous, half-commis- 
erating smile, and he retired to confer with his chief; then 
his chief, the bey himself, came out in high dudgeon and 
told me that the Effendina would be very angry if he ever 
heard of my actions, and that I would be dismissed. In 
reply I asked him if he thought it would be a very dreadful 
thing to be put out of the service of a government which 
could not raise sufficient money to pay my wretched pit- 
tance. He promised to pay me if I would come back "to- 
morrow," and I laughed in his face. He then retired to his 
sanctum and sent word to me that if I would come in there 
I would receive my money; but on surveying the advan- 
tages of my position, I declined the invitation, simply stat- 
ing that the money must be counted out on the dry-goods 
box, and that then I would gladly leave — and the money 
was counted out to me! 

That night I received a visit from the bey and he fairly 
fawned on me as he cringingly begged me not to mention 
what had passed, as there was no telling what might happen 
to him if it came to the ears of his master — and he was 
right ; for the Khedive never dreamed that we were kept out 
of our pay month after month as had been the custom. 

The native pasha who was second in command nomi- 
nally, but in reality first, invited General Loring to a ban- 
quet, and I was ordered to accompany my chief. We en- 
tered a carriage and drove across the sands for some three 
miles before we arrived at the garrison where the pasha's 
headquarters were situated. First the guard was inspected 
and afterwards we were ushered into the banquet hall. Of 
course General Loring had the seat of honor on the right of 
the pasha and at his place were placed a plate, knife, fork, 
and spoon, in the European style — the natives of course 
eating out of the large dishes or pans with their fingers. My 




GENERAL W. W. LORING 

Taken in Cairo 



A Difficulty about Rank 299 

chair was conspicuous by its absence. It was very humili- 
ating for me to have to do the interpreting in so personal a 
matter, but there was no help for it. General Loring told 
me to say to the pasha that it was absolutely necessary for 
him to have me beside him, as I was his only means of com- 
munication, and besides he had only one arm and frequently 
needed assistance. The pasha replied that I could stand be- 
hind the general's chair. I was never so near becoming a 
madman as I was while translating this suggestion, and when 
I had finished I told the general that I would retire. He 
begged me not to desert him, and explained that no offense 
was meant — only they did not know any better. Finally 
a chair was brought for me and placed by the general. 

I was indignant with General Loring for the excuse he 
made for wanting me beside him. I was neither an inter- 
preter nor a valet — and before I got through I intended to 
make him understand it too. I was a gentleman at home, 
and I intended to be treated as one in Egypt. It appeared 
strange to me that I, who had been a guest at the Khedive's 
table on several occasions, should not be considered of suf- 
ficient rank to sit at a meal in the company of these cheap 
ofT-colored beys. I had had enough of it, and I intended to 
sever my connection with His Highness's service the mo- 
ment I could get hold of pen, ink, and paper. 

The next morning I took the train for Cairo, and on 
arriving there went straight to the citadel ; and as I gazed 
on the great square between the palace and the mosque, — 
the scene of another banquet, when Mehemet Ali invited 
the Mamelukes to partake of his hospitality and when they 
were inside closed the sallyport and cut loose the artillery 
into them, — I realized that I was not the only man that 
had got more than he bargained for at an Egyptian feast. 
The artillery could not have been worse than the mortifica- 
tion I had suffered. 

After a short wait I was shown into the presence of 
General Stone, who appeared very much shocked at my 



300 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

story and frankly told me that the affair was going to em- 
barrass him greatly. I insisted that the simplest way out 
of the difficulty was to use his influence to have my resigna- 
tion accepted immediately. But this he would not hear 
of, and instructed me to return to him in three days. The 
chief-of-staff was very suave — he was not only a most 
accomplished man in his profession, but he was a born 
manipulator of men. Mott, Loring, Sibley, Rhett, Kennon, 
and several others had formed a cabal against him, but he 
had handled the whole crowd as though they were so many 
naughty children; and before he got through with them 
they were tame enough to eat out of his hand and beg for 
his influence when they wanted any favors from the Khe- 
dive. It was not extraordinary, therefore, that he bent me 
to his will, tore up my resignation, ordered me not to say 
another word about the matter, as it would greatly annoy 
the Khedive if it got to his ears, and then informed me that 
it had been decided to send me to the staff of Ratib Pasha, 
lieutenant-general, and commander-in-chief of the Egyptian 
Army. This detail would give me the rank of a lieutenant- 
colonel and all danger of a repetition of such a contretemps 
as the one I had recently been subjected to would be at 
an end. 



CHAPTER XXXV 

Ratib Pasha — Attempted suicide gained him promotion — Ratib is pre- 
sented to a pretty soubrette — And calls on her accompanied by his staff — 
The commander-in-chief is peeved — The Abyssinian campaign — Ratib 
Pasha the only court favorite faithful to the Khedive Ismail in the hour of 
humiliation and sorrow — The Duke of Hamilton, General Mott, and the 
duel that did not come off. 

Ratib Pasha, commander-in-chief of the Egyptian Army, 
was not an imposing figure to look at ; he was only five feet 
four or five inches in height and could hardly have weighed 
more than a hundred pounds; his features were not at all 
impressive, and they were of a dark brown tinge. He had 
risen to his high rank suddenly, and like most military 
heroes rejoiced in an ugly facial wound which did not add to 
his personal beauty. The story of his promotion was typical 
of the methods of the khedives of the time in such cases. 

Abbas Pasha was the ruler, and little Ratib was one of his 
equerries. Abbas used to turn him into ridicule and get lots 
of fun out of him ; but one day Ratib had the misfortune to 
displease his master, who had a very ugly temper, and in a 
burst of rage Abbas turned upon him and hissed the awful 
word "Canzire!" The Arabic language is prolific in epi- 
thets, but not one of them conveys the degrading insult 
incorporated in this Arab word for "hog." One might pass 
over lightly being called the "brother of a sow," but the 
plain, unvarnished name of the unclean beast, when applied 
to a gentleman, demanded either satisfaction or death. Now 
Ratib could not challenge his lord and master, so he did the 
next most proper thing — he retired to an antechamber 
where there was a little parlor pistol lying on a table. This 
he picked up and fondled fondly for a moment, and then 
he lay down on a divan, placed the muzzle of the toy pistol 
in his mouth and pulled the trigger ! The little pellet of lead 
penetrated the roof of his mouth and came out alongside of 



302 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

his nose. Ratlb's nose bled in sympathy, and he soon be- 
came a gory-looking spectacle. The surgeons arrived and 
quickly performed a most remarkable operation — they 
inserted a small silver tube in the hole, which served to 
decorate his features as well as to announce to the world 
that he was a hero. 

Like most men of quick and high temper. Abbas Pasha 
was overcome with regret, and to make amends promised 
Ratib the first thing that he thought the little fellow would 
like, which was the position of commander-in-chief, on con- 
dition that he would recover. Ratib recovered — not only 
recovered, but retained his position under the reign of 
Ismail Pasha, Khedive. 

When the quiet and politic American, General Stone, was 
made chief-of-staff of the army, he did not announce himself 
with a blare of trumpets; in fact he kept in the background, 
and few of the high officials were aware of the fact that a 
new power had arisen among them which had to be reckoned 
with. Stone worked silently and unobtrusively, but he had 
the tremendous leverage of the Khedive's power to help 
him; and soon, without depriving Ratib Pasha of a single 
chevron or gold tassel, that officer, hardly perceiving the 
momentum, gently glided into what Mr. Cleveland would 
have called a position of "innocuous desuetude." 

Such was the general to whose staff Colonel Charles 
Chaille-Long and I were detailed ; and when we reported for 
duty I cannot say that Ratib appeared overjoyed to see us, 
despite the fact that we had been told the orders were issued 
at his personal request. I think myself that Ratib imagined 
it would give him a little prestige among the natives to have 
a couple of the Americans, who were regarded as curiosities 
from an unknown land, riding in his train. 

Of course, with my usual luck I soon managed to fall 
into disfavor. My fall from grace came about in a most 
unexpected way. It was an off night at the opera bouife, 
and the incomparable Celine Monthalon was charming 



Ratib is presented to a Soubrette 303 

her audience with the wonders of her delightful voice at 
the Italian opera, the famous edifice which had been built 
by the Khedive for the production of Verdi's "Aida." 
During an entr'acte I discovered that there was a large 
sprinkling of the artistes of the bouffe and comedy com- 
panies in the audience — among them, seated in a box, 
high up, I spied pretty and piquant little Mademoiselle 
Girardin, the charming soubrette of the opera bouffe. She 
was accompanied by her mother, for she was awfully 
proper and never went to any place without a mother. 
(Duplan, the bouffe tenor, told me that she was so particu- 
lar in this matter of mothers, that this was the third she 
had had in two years to his knowledge.) I went up to the 
box to pay my compliments and was enjoying myself 
greatly when there was a knock at the door and to my 
astonishment some one asked for me. I went to the door 
and came face to face with my chief Ratib Pasha! I could 
have been knocked down with a feather. But the inter- 
view was not so awful as might have been expected — all 
that the great man wanted was an introduction to Made- 
moiselle Girardin, which seemed a very simple matter, 
but which was not. I asked the young lady's permission 
to present to her His Excellency, Ratib Pasha, commander- 
in-chief of the Egyptian Army, and the little minx put me 
to confusion by flatly denying his identity, asserting that 
I was always trying to play practical jokes, and insisted 
that she did not believe Ratib was any kind of a general 
at all, much less the great commander-in-chief. Ratib took 
a seat beside her and began the agreeable task of convincing 
her that he was indeed the great and only human being of 
that exalted rank, and before he knew what she was up 
to, the little scamp in petticoats had extracted a promise 
from him that he would the next day prove to her that he 
was really and truly "It" by calling on her at her apart- 
ments, not only in full uniform, but also accompanied by 
his staff! By this time, realizing that my services were no 



304 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

longer required, I quietly sneaked out of the box only to 
be heartily laughed at by my young men friends for having 
been run off by "old Ratib." 

The next afternoon Colonel Chaille-Long was absent 
from headquarters on some duty (fortunately for him), 
when His Excellency informed me that he wished his staff 
to accompany him on his ride, in full uniform. Instantly 
it flashed through my mind what was up, and I swore a 
mighty internal oath that I would not accompany him 
even if every soubrette in the trade died of disappointment. 
When the appointed hour arrived it found the staff, with 
the exception of myself, all ready. I was still attired in 
my Presbyterian parson single-breasted black undress uni- 
form coat. The pasha appeared in full regalia, with his 
broad sash across his sunk-in chest and his coat so covered 
with embroidered gold flowers that only here and there was 
a blue spot of cloth visible. He glared at me for a moment 
and remarked that he was under the impression that he 
had told me he expected me to accompany him, and I re- 
plied that "I would be unable to ride that afternoon." 
He then ordered me to remain until he returned, as he would 
have something to say to me, and then he mounted his 
horse and, accompanied by his staff, rode away to conquer 
or die. 

Ratib's staff consisted of some twenty-odd Egyptian 
officers (exclusive of Colonel Chaille-Long and myself), 
and they formed quite a gorgeous pageant as they wended 
their way out of the courtyard and into the street. It was 
the hour at which all the prominent people of Cairo went 
for their afternoon promenade on the fashionable Shubra 
drive, and to get into that beautiful avenue they all had to 
pass by the apartments of Mademoiselle Girardin. 

The commander-in-chief drew his staff up in front of 
the soubrette's house and dismounted, doubtless affording 
the pleasure-seekers much amusement; and I take it for 
granted that he convinced the young lady upon whom he 



The Abyssinian Campaign 305 

called in such state that he really was a general. When 
he returned to his palace he asked me "if my conduct was 
a sample of the discipline I had come so many miles to 
teach his countrymen, and for which His Highness paid 
such an extravagant price." There was an offensive sneer 
on his face which I resented, informing him that I might 
be a mercenary, but that I would never put His Highness's 
uniform to such a doubtful use as presenting it before ac- 
tresses as proof that I was one of his officers. Ratib was 
furious. For a moment I thought the little fellow was 
going to assault me, but he seemed suddenly to change 
his mind and hurled himself on to a divan instead, where 
he began to kick and scream with rage like an angry child, 
and there I left him. After this scene I got on very well 
with my chief, officially, as he had no desire to have the 
cause of the trouble made public property; and personally 
he was such a religious fanatic that he did not dislike me 
any more than he did any other Christian dog. 

Ratib had in his composition a goodly share of Oriental 
cunning and was familiar with all the subtle workings of 
Egyptian ways of bringing about results, which were in- 
comprehensible to the American mind. For instance, the 
Khedive decided that his army needed a little exercise, 
and to give it to them he sent an expedition of twelve thou- 
sand men down the Red Sea coast to castigate the Abys- 
sinians. He had never heard the Gilbert and Sullivan song 
about the "torpedo and the whale," and little dreamed that 
Egypt was cast for the part of the whale. Loring was im- 
mensely delighted when the command was given to him. 
Ratib Pasha lay low and said nothing until just before the 
expedition sailed ; then he obtained permission to accom- 
pany it merely as an onlooker and a student of war with 
no authority over the troops whatever so far as Loring 
was aware of. The Oriental gentlemen who knew the ways 
of the country and also felt kindly disposed toward Loring 
shook their heads knowingly, but did not dare to warn him. 



3o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

The army landed, but had not gone very far from the 
coast when they received information that the Abyssin- 
ians were coming, some thirty thousand strong, to attack 
them. Now the Egyptian Army was splendidly drilled and 
disciplined, and they were armed with Remington breach- 
loaders, at that time one of the best weapons in use in any 
of the armies; but alas, the troops did not know how to 
shoot and few of them had ever fired a gun. Powder was 
too expensive to be wasted in target practice, and what 
money De Lesseps did not get out of the Khedive for his 
canal was needed too much to swell the fortunes of the 
court favorites, those soulless parasites who kept the khedi- 
val treasury drained, ti fearlessness of death constitutes 
bravery, then every Egyptian soldier is a hero, for they 
have not the slightest dread of their end. They come from 
the peasant class (fellahs) and are not aggressive, but 
rather than attack they preferred to stand still and be 
killed like sheep. 

Fortunately for Loring, when the Abyssinians appeared, 
Ratib, who had no idea of letting Loring reap the glory 
of a great victory while he himself was present on the field, 
produced from his breast-pocket an order from the Minis- 
ter of War authorizing him to take over the command of 
the army whenever in his opinion it should be necessary, 
and of course the necessity had now arisen. Loring was 
relieved and the Abyssianians poured down the moun- 
tain-sides armed with all sorts of antediluvian weapons 
including flintlocks, swords, and rhinocerous-hide shields, 
spears, and clubs. They rushed up to the Egyptians and 
wrenched the breech-loaders out of their hands and used 
them to club the life out of those poor wretches. The 
slaughter was great and the disaster frightful. But it did 
not appear that Ratib lost much in prestige so far as his 
standing at court was concerned. 

My remarks concerning the fighting qualities of the 
Egyptians, it must be remembered, refer to a time before 



The Duke of Hamilton 307 

Gordon licked his Soudanese army into shape and made 
them fight so splendidly. He had done the same thing 
previously with the Chinese, and always insisted that they 
were splendid fighting material when officered by Euro- 
peans ; and it must also be remembered that the Soudanese 
and Nubians are fighting men naturally, and very different 
races of men from the gentle peasant of the lower Nile. 

To the everlasting honor of Ratib Pasha I must say that 
when Ismail Pasha, Khedive, was dethroned and all the 
parasites who had drained him of his wealth had aban- 
doned him, Ratib Pasha alone followed the master who 
had been so kind to him into exile, and shared his impris- 
onment and broken fortunes. 

It was while I was attached to the staff of the comman- 
der-in-chief that a personal difficulty occurred in Cairo 
which caused a great deal of gossip both in Egypt and 
Europe, and I regret to say that I was partly the uninten- 
tional cause of it. 

The Duke of Hamilton had come to Egypt in his steam 
yacht bringing a very gay and noisy party of young men 
with him. It was shortly after he had met with great 
losses on the turf and had found it convenient to skip to 
France between two days to avoid his most pressing credi- 
tors. He had celebrated his arrival in Paris by sending 
all Europe into convulsions of laughter by his answer to 
an invitation to dine with his cousin the Emperor Napo- 
leon. It read: "Sire: I have neither the clothes nor the 
manners for imperial society." The duke's creditors, how- 
ever, were amenable to reason and made an arrangement 
with him whereby they took over the management of his 
enormous estates and allowed him a pittance of a hundred 
and fifty thousand dollars a year until they could pay them- 
selves. 

The duke and his party went to Cairo where they took 
possession of Shepheard's Hotel, the most famous caravan- 
sary for Europeans in the place at that day, and they made 



3o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

things lively for the rest of the guests, one of their most 
favorite amusements being footraces through the long 
corridors in the middle of the night. 

If there was any trouble brewing, it was just my luck 
to stumble into it. There was a rich Englishman by the 
name of Fairman visiting Cairo, and he and I were not 
on good terms. One afternoon on returning from riding I 
stopped at my restaurant and went in to dinner just as 
I was, dressed in my undress uniform, and carrying in my 
hand a light riding-whip. I took my seat at a table where 
Colonels Chaille-Long and Mason were dining, and after 
I got through I walked out of the room, and in the corridor 
met Mr. Fairman, who made a remark at which I took 
offense, and, losing my temper, I struck him with the whip. 
Mr. Fairman told me he would send his seconds to me and 
we separated. But on reflection he decided not to chal- 
lenge me. 

Now, it so happened that Mr. Fairman was an acquaint- 
ance of the Duke of Hamilton and his party, and shortly 
after our affray he was seated at a table with them in the 
garden in front of the Villa Shubra (a place where prome- 
naders could stop for refreshments), and who should enter 
the grounds but Major-General Mott. Mott knew the duke 
and saluted him as he was passing the table where the latter 
was seated with his friends. The duke courteously invited 
Mott to join his party, but Mott replied that he would do 
so with pleasure if it were not for the fact that Mr. Fairman 
was present. The duke was naturally offended and asked 
for an explanation. Mott replied that "under no circum- 
stances would he sit at the same table with a man who had 
been publicly horsewhipped and had not resented it." The 
words were no sooner out of Mott's mouth than a sporty 
young baronet in the party jumped to his feet and de- 
manded Mott's card, saying that he would send his seconds 
to him, and selected the duke for one of them. The duke 
carried the demand for an apology or satisfaction to Mott, 



The Duel that did not come off 309 

and the latter referred him to me as his friend who would 
carry on the negotiations. The duke, when he called on me, 
made himself so agreeable that I took quite a fancy to him 
and tried to point out a way by which the matter might be 
dropped without having recourse to a hostile meeting. I be- 
came so confidential with him that I told him his young 
friend would not have a ghost of a chance for his life if ever 
he went on the field with General Mott, who, besides having 
fought several duels and killed one man to my knowledge, 
was a magnificent swordsman and a dead shot with pistols, 
and furthermore it was useless to expect an apology from 
him. But my remarks did not seem at all to dismay the 
duke, and as no apology could be had, the only other thing 
to do was to arrange the details for a hostile meeting. These 
we agreed upon in the most amicable spirit. We were to 
go to Alexandria and the party was to stop at the H5tel 
Abbatt on the plaza, and the next morning at daylight 
repair to a cemetery in the suburbs (the one where one of 
the Apostles is supposed to be buried), and there let our 
principals blaze away at each other. 

At daylight on the morning on which the duel was ex- 
pected to take place, General Mott and myself, carrying 
a case of dueling pistols, entered the office of the hotel and 
asked the night clerk if the duke and his party had yet been 
called, when to our amazement the sleepy clerk replied that 
they had left the hotel at 2 a.m. and gone aboard their yacht 
and were probably by that time far out at sea! 

Instead of letting the matter rest there, against my ad- 
vice General Mott wrote a letter to the London papers in 
which he particularly excoriated the Duke of Hamilton, 
and brought down upon himself a torrent of abuse. The 
Duke of Hamilton took no notice of him, but truth compels 
me to state that I afterwards heard that the young baronet 
was anxious to fight and that the duke, having no intention 
whatever of allowing him to be perforated by Mott's leaden 
pellet, had forcibly carried him away. 



CHAPTER XXXVI 

The Franco- Prussian War — Apply for leave to go to France — Wrecked — 
Paris in sackcloth and ashes — A generous Jew. 

When the Franco- Prussian War was at its height several 
of the American officers, among them myself, through the 
Khedive requested permission to go to France for the 
purpose of studying our profession on the battle-fields. The 
answer came back that the Imperial Government would be 
pleased to receive a small number of native Egyptian offi- 
cers, but that they did not care to have the Americans in 
His Highness's service. I had a great desire to see what was 
going on, so I applied for leave of absence, which was granted 
me, and I took passage for Marseilles in a little bark be- 
cause it was a cheap way of making the voyage, and like 
everything else I have found in this life that was cheap — 
it was "bum." 

The Tigre was supposed to be a steamer. I don't know 
how many "cat" power her engine was said to have had, 
but I do know that it broke down whenever it felt like it. 
She was crowded with the usual polyglot assemblage of 
passengers of all Oriental nations commonly found aboard 
ships in the eastern Mediterranean, many of them — in fact 
whole families — camping on the upper deck for economical 
reasons. The filth of the vessel was indescribable. I shared 
my stateroom with a young Jew who spoke several lan- 
guages and was both highly educated and refined. All went 
well enough until after we passed through- the Strait of 
Bonifacio and struck the mistral, which was blowing a gale. 
We were off the lies de Hier on the French coast, bucking 
the heavy sea without making any headway, when our 
miserable little coffee-mill of an engine broke down. The 
ship was hastily put under sail, and thinking that she was 
riding the seas nicely I turned into my bunk and went to 



Wrecked 31 1 

sleep, only to be suddenly awakened some time in the middle 
watch by an awful crash. Rushing on deck I found that 
both fore and mainmast had gone by the board. Nearly 
every man on deck had appointed himself captain and was 
frantically bellowing orders to which no one else paid the 
slightest attention. There was a perfect Babel of tongues at 
work. The spars, held by their rigging, were acting as bat- 
tering-rams against the wooden sides of the ship, and it was 
evident that she would not be able to stand the punishment 
for very long. The passengers rushed for the boat davits 
and began to lower the boats, a difficult feat even for sailors 
to perform in such a seaway. As the boats touched the 
water the poor wretches, like a frightened flock of sheep, 
leaped over the side, more alighting in the sea than in the 
boats, sufficient numbers, however, landing in them to 
cause them to swamp. But strange to say several of them 
got away and reached the shore which was only a few miles 
away. 

My roommate, Mr. Suarez, made several starts for the 
boats, but I dissuaded him. When day broke the Tigre was 
sinking fast by the stern, but fortunately both sea and wind 
had gone down. There was a very small dinghy, used as a 
market boat in port, fastened bottom up on the poop deck, 
and on this boat I had had my eyes fastened for some time, 
knowing that no one else would think of taking her. When 
at daylight Mr. Suarez and I found ourselves alone on the 
fast-sinking bark, I turned this little boat over and found 
her oars fastened under the thwarts. The bow of the Tigre 
was standing high out of the water and her taffrail was 
submerged, so without difficulty I launched our pygmy 
craft and leaped into her as she glided into the water, but 
alas! my pocketbook with every sovereign I possessed was 
in my breast-pocket and as I jumped into the boat I heard 
it go kerchunk into the sea. I paddled back to the wreck for 
my companion, and to my surprise found that he had gone 
back to the cabin and brought up a very light steamer 



312 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

trunk of mine, but the water was so deep he had not been 
able to save anything of his own. Without further adven- 
ture we rowed to the island and from there were taken to 
La Ciotat on the mainland and then proceeded to Mar- 
seilles by rail, Mr. Suarez having kindly purchased a ticket 
for me as well as for himself. 

At Marseilles we could form no idea of the condition of 
the interior of France, as the heavy hand of war had not 
reached that far south, and hearing that trains were running 
through to Paris we started for that once gay capital, only 
to find that we had been misinformed and that we had to 
undergo many vexatious delays before arriving there. We 
soon entered the country still occupied by the Germans, 
although the war was over. They had their sentries at all 
the railway stations, and I was disgusted at the brutal and 
overbearing manner they showed toward the civilian popu- 
lation. Instead of commanding a Frenchman to halt, they 
would merely strike him a fearful blow in the pit of his 
stomach with the butt of a musket ; even when these poor 
people only wanted to approach a train for the purpose of 
making inquiries about missing friends or relatives. 

It was in the early spring of 1 87 1 when we entered Paris 
in one of the first trains that had arrived in that city since 
the suppression of the Commune. It was dark when we 
detrained and when we asked for a cab we were laughed 
at; the porter asked of what use a cab would be since all 
the horses had been eaten. We were also told that all the 
famous hotels whose names we remembered had been con- 
verted into hospitals. Finally a man agreed to pilot us to 
a small hotel on the Boulevard Montmartre where we could 
get accommodations and we followed him. 

The next morning early I wrote to friends in England 
telling them of the loss of my pocketbook and asking them 
to send me enough money to enable me to return to Egypt, 
but the mails were disorganized and I never heard whether 
or not they had received my letter. After I had finished 



Paris in Sackcloth and Ashes 313 

my breakfast I took a walk, passing through the once 
crowded boulevards des Italiens, des Capucines, and la 
rue Royale without meeting a living soul. The once mag- 
nificent plate-glass show windows which were not smashed 
were perforated with bullet holes so close together that it 
would have been impossible to put one's hand on a spot that 
a bullet had not gone through. The Palace of the Tuileries 
was an ugly mass of smouldering ruins with the smoke still 
ascending from it, and the fronts of the houses on the rue 
de Rivoli, opposite the Palace of the Louvre, were lying in 
the street. In some of the houses the interior of the bed- 
rooms could be plainly seen, looking as though their former 
occupants had only just stepped out of them for a moment. 
I walked down the Champs Elys6es where once the fountains 
and the trees had been so beautiful, but there was now not 
even a bush or shrub to relieve the desolation which had 
been wrought by the hands of vandals. I proceeded on 
through the Arc de I'Etoile to the edge of a treeless desert 
once known as the Bois de Boulogne, one of the most beauti- 
ful parks in the world. Returning I passed through the 
Place Vend6me and saw its beautiful column, broken into 
several pieces, lying on the ground. I had seen enough. 
Could this be the gay and debonnaire Paris with the gilded 
and mirrored pleasure places and the laughing throngs I 
had seen only two short years previously? 

That was a gloomy and a weary week I spent in Paris, 
and when its end came I was still without funds and the 
landlord was scowling at me. I had never laid eyes on my 
companion in the shipwreck since the night of my arrival! 
He was still in Paris and stopping at the same house, but I 
came to the conclusion that he was avoiding me. Hopeless 
and expecting to be put out on the street, I went up to my 
room one night after wandering for hours about the deserted 
streets and saw what I supposed was a notice to leave pinned 
on the pincushion. Wearily opening the envelope, the 
contents of which I thought I already knew, I was greatly 



314 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

delighted to find that I was mistaken and that it contained 
a note from Mr. Suarez telling me that he regretted that 
business had prevented him from seeing me, and directing 
me to take an enclosed note to a friend of his, a banker, who 
would supply me with quite a large sum of money which I 
could return at my convenience! He wound up the note by 
saying that he was compelled to leave hurriedly that night. 
The banker gave me the money, but said that Mr. Suarez 
had left no address, as he expected to return to Paris in a 
few days, but that as he knew my address in Egypt he 
would write to me. I have never seen or heard from that 
generous Jew from that day to this. 

It is not necessary for me to say that I left Paris as 
quickly as possible and returned to Egypt where I resumed 
my uncongenial military duties. 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

Return to America — Tired of the Egyptian service, but the Khedive declines 
to allow me to resign — Grants me a furlough with permission to go home — 
Determine again to become a farmer — "Woe to them that go down to 
Egypt for help; and stay on horses" — Columbia, South Carolina — Become 
lord and master of the great Hampton plantation — A bachelor's menage 
and appetite — A lively fox hunt in which the wily Carpetbag Government 
is run to cover — Matches only cost five cents a box — Trial Justice Sam 
Thompson. 

Early in 1872 it became very evident to me that there 
was no future for the American officers in Egypt, and many 
of the others thought as I did, but few of them had any very 
bright prospects to look forward to if they returned home. 
I determined to chance it, knowing that I could always turn 
to that last resort of the navy man and become a farmer. 
Land was plentiful and cheap where I came from. 

I was agreeably surprised to find that the Khedive did not 
want to let me go, saying that I was only a homesick boy 
and that he would allow me a six months' furlough instead 
of accepting my resignation. I assured him that I would not 
come back, but he thought differently and advised me to 
accept the furlough, saying that if at its expiration I was 
still of the same mind he would then accept my resignation. 
So I bade farewell to Egypt and went to Liverpool, where 
I took ship for New York and was delighted to find among 
the passengers Clarence Cary and Frank Dawson, two of my 
best friends, and comrades in the Confederate Navy. 

I had a letter from my friend, Mr. Edward Markoe 
Wright, asking me to come to his house immediately on my 
arrival in New York, and landing in that port very early 
in the morning I waited until I thought the family were up 
and then went there. While waiting for my host to come down 
I opened a Bible which was lying on a table and the first 
words that caught my eye was the commencement of the 
thirty-first chapter of Isaiah: "Woe to them that go down 



31 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

to Egypt for help; and stay on horses," etc. I had not seen 
a Bible for a very long time, but this verse was so apt that 
I had no curiosity to read any further for fear that it might 
become even more personal. Arriving in Charleston, South 
Carolina, although Mr. Trenholm advised me against the 
venture, I managed to persuade him to let me have the 
grand old Hampton plantation in exchange for some stocks 
I had in railroads and a cotton manufactory. The property 
comprised several thousand acres and was situated on the 
Congaree River, four miles below Columbia, the capital of 
the State. There was a new ten-room house which had been 
recently erected on the place and a huge barn capable of 
stabling a hundred animals. The avenue, a mile long, lead- 
ing from the public road to the house, was lined by huge oak 
trees whose limbs formed a perfect Gothic arch the whole 
distance. One of my little nephews the first time he passed 
through it, in a subdued whisper said, " It feels like a church, 
does it not?" Alas, that wonderful avenue has long since 
been turned into cordwood and burned. 

The place was so large that there were five separate and 
distinct villages or negro settlements on it. My grand- 
father, writing an account of a visit he had paid General 
Hampton in 1798, says that he "saw one hundred ploughs 
going at the same time in one field." Of course these were the 
little one-horse ploughs commonly used in the South until 
many years after the Civil War, but it goes to show how 
enormous was the size of the fields. 

I set up housekeeping at Hampton and at first my menage 
was as lonely as it was unique. I had only one servant, 
Maum Margaret, a huge black woman somewhat past the 
middle age ; she must have weighed at least two hundred and 
fifty pounds, and she had only ten children. She cooked for 
me and made my bed, and when dark approached she 
returned to her cabin and her family. Maum Margaret 
always carried a huge basket, both going and coming, and 
when my bills came in for the first month's expenses I felt 



The Carpetbag Government 317 

that I had discovered a clue to the mystery of the basket. 
According to the grocer's bill, besides the game I had killed, 
and the fish, chickens, and fresh meat that I had bought, in 
a little over four weeks I had eaten fifty pounds of bacon, 
eleven hams, three barrels of flour, and a lot of canned 
things, and still I weighed at that time only a hundred and 
forty-five pounds! 

The house was surrounded by forest trees, and the nights 
were very lonely, my only companions being an ugly-looking 
bulldog and a hound. I was the only white man on the 
place and there were hundreds of ignorant negroes, many of 
them lawless and fast reverting to barbarism. It was im- 
possible to obtain a conviction against one of them for any 
crime, as the negro trial justice was dependent upon his fees 
for his livelihood, and it was well known that a white man 
would pay rather than go to jail and that a negro would not. 

When I had left South Carolina three years before it was 
under martial law; now the experiment of the Reconstruc- 
tion, which ought to have been called the "destruction," was 
in full sway. Franklin J. Moses was governor, and the help- 
less whites were compelled to submit to outrages by the 
presence of United States troops who were there to see that 
we did not run amuck among the carpetbaggers and scal- 
awags. The latter name was applied to Southern men who 
had joined with the carpetbaggers in plundering their fellow 
citizens. While these thieves lived in luxury their lives must 
have been mentally very uncomfortable, for they well knew 
that if the troops should be removed for a moment their 
lives would pay the penalty of their outrages. But the swag 
was so rich that not even fear for their lives could induce them 
to let go even after they had accumulated riches beyond 
their most extravagant dreams. Their only safeguard was 
the soldiers, and the regular officers had such a contempt for 
them that they would hold no social intercourse with them, 
and the privates hated the negroes with a bitter hatred and 
took no pains to disguise their feelings. 



3i8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Moses did not belong to the low class of whites, as has 
often been represented ; on the contrary, he was one of that 
class of Jews which had always stood high in the estimation 
of their fellow citizens and he had married into a most ex- 
cellent family. He was an officer in one of the regular South 
Carolina regiments and had an excellent record in the Con- 
federate Army. On one occasion when the flag was shot 
away at Fort Sumter, under a heavy fire he climbed the 
flagstaff and replaced it. Why he should have pursued the 
course he did is incomprehensible. I first saw him under 
very ludicrous circumstances. I had known from childhood 
Colonel Black, who commanded the Eighteenth Infantry, 
the United States regiment stationed at Columbia to keep 
us "rebs" in order, and I was on the most friendly terms 
with all the officers of the command than whom a higher- 
toned set of gentlemen it was never my good fortune to 
meet. Among the younger officers was a Lieutenant Todd, 
from Kentucky, who, like all his countrymen, was very fond 
of fox hunting. Riding by the barracks one afternoon Lieu- 
tenant Todd stopped me and asked if I could not get up a 
fox hunt for that night, as the moon was full and it would be 
a great night for a chase. I agreed with him and told him if 
he would notify the other officers, I would go back to the 
club and tell my friends that there was to be a hunt and then 
go and see some of the planters who had hounds, and that 
I would meet them at the Lexington County end of the 
bridge which spanned the Congaree. 

When I arrived at the rendezvous with the dogs I found 
some thirty or forty hunters assembled and each one seemed 
armed with a pocket flask. They were very busily engaged 
in renewing the assurances of their highest consideration 
for one another, at the same time whooping and yelling like 
demons. I begged them to keep quiet, as not only would 
the noise run every fox out of the county, but it would also 
excite the dogs who had not been hunted for some time and 
were very fresh. Silence was obtained for a few minutes and 



A Lively Fox Hunt 319 

I uncoupled the hounds and started the hunt. The full moon 
was shining brightly on the white sandy soil, and except 
where the shadows of the lofty yellow pine trees fell, it was 
as light as day. The dogs had hardly begun the hunt for a 
trail when unfortunately a puppy in the pack spied a stray 
cur and gave tongue, followed by the rest in full cry. The 
men put spurs to their horses, their yells drowning the music 
of the pack. I had seen the cur they were chasing, but I was 
helpless to stop either dogs or men ; so I blew my horn in 
vain for some time, and then, knowing that as soon as the 
dogs caught the cur, they would make their way across the 
bridge and go to a farm in the sand hills on the other side of 
Columbia, I rode to the bridge and asked the man in charge 
of it if he had seen a pack of dogs cross. He told me that he 
had, and also about fifty crazy men after them. Passing by 
the barracks on my way to the farm where I supposed I 
would find the dogs, I was hailed by an officer who was cross- 
ing the parade ground. He asked me to dismount and said 
that it was a very good joke, and had been very well played, 
but the time for stopping it had come, as he had no idea of 
keeping the whole regiment under arms all night for my 
amusement, and that, anyhow, Colonel Black was in the 
officer of the day's office and would like to see me. The 
room was dimly lighted, and at first I saw no one but the 
colonel, who was seated at a table on which there was a 
lamp. Calling me by my first name, he asked since when 
I had become a member of the Ku Klux Klan. Before an- 
swering I glanced around the room and to my astonishment 
beheld the governor and his cabinet seated in line against 
the wall. I laughingly replied to the colonel's inquiry by 
saying that if I was a Ku Klux there were about fourteen 
officers of the Eighteenth Infantry who belonged to my 
particular band; and just then the disappointed huntsmen 
trooped in, and not seeing their colonel at first, began to 
berate me for letting the dogs get away. Moses and the 
lieutenant-governor, the secretary of state, the treasurer, 



320 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

comptroller, adjutant-general and superintendent of public 
education arose and sneaked out into the night. 

"The wicked flee when no man pursueth." The next 
morning we heard the explanation of the carpetbaggers' 
scare. It seems that when the hunting party gathered in the 
woods at the end of the bridge, and were making so much 
noise, an old negro woman hastened across the river and 
warned the governor that hundreds of Ku Klux were gather- 
ing for an attack on the state officials. Moses sent out a 
trusted scout who, when he had got halfway across the 
river, took fright, and returning reported that thousands of 
the white-sheeted devils were assembled and only waiting 
for the signal to annihilate every white Republican in the 
capital. Moses sent the warning to his friends, and they 
all fled to the barracks for protection, their flight being 
accelerated by the yells of the sportsmen trying to head 
the dogs as they scampered through the streets of the city. 
Those were sad days for Columbia, but the natives had at 
least one week's merriment over this escapade. 

The first time I came into conflict with the carpetbaggers 
was one day when Maum Margaret informed me that she 
wanted to get through her work early, as there was to be a 
"speaking" and she wished to attend it. I asked where the 
meeting was to take place and she informed me that the 
white man (I never heard a negro call a carpetbagger a 
gentleman) was having my property moved out of one of my 
barns for the purpose, as it was raining. The man was a 
candidate for the legislature, and I determined to attend 
the meeting. The fellow was uneducated and mouthy. I 
heard him tell those ignorant blacks that "the land be- 
longed to them by rights, as their labor had made it what it 
was, and the only way to get rid of the rebel landlord was 
to tax him out of the country, and that if they would vote 
for him he would get a law passed to effect that desirable 
result"; and then he went on to say that if we could not 
be got rid of in that way, then they ought to burn us out — 



Trial Justice Sam Thompson 321 

a box of matches only cost five cents and any child could 
strike one. At this I jumped on the improvised speaker's 
stand and grabbed him by the collar and hustled him out of 
the building and to the public road, where I faced him in 
the direction of Columbia, and telling him if he ever dared 
put his foot on my property again I would fill him full of 
lead, I gave him a kick where I thought it would do the 
most good and started him on his way. Not a single negro 
had followed us, so naturally there were no witnesses, but 
the next day I was served with a warrant charging me with 
assault, and when the trial came off the scoundrel had 
dozens of witnesses, negroes who lived in my houses and 
who were dependent on my employment for their means 
of subsistence, to testify against me. 

The trial justice was a negro by the name of Sam Thomp- 
son. He had been a slave of my brother-in-law, Dr. Alfred 
Wallace, and when they were boys Dr. Wallace had amused 
himself by teaching Sam to read. This was the judge before 
whom I was tried and fined fifty dollars, which of course I 
paid rather than go to jail, and the justice pocketed the 
fines and fees. Seeing how easy it was to get it out of me, 
Sam ever afterwards looked to me for a regular monthly 
contribution; in fact, I was before him so often that we 
became quite intimate. 

Another candidate appeared a few days afterwards. This 
one was a common cornfield negro who appealed for votes 
on the ground that if he was elected he would have two laws 
enacted, one for the whites and another for the colored folks; 
of course the one for the negroes would be better than the 
one for the whites, but he never intimated what the laws 
were to be. A few days after this man made his appearance 
on the place I caught him, axe in hand, attempting to cut 
down one of the magnificent oaks in the avenue. I not only 
ordered him to desist, but threatened him with personal 
violence if he struck the tree another blow. He said he 
would see if any white man could talk to him that way, 



322 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and the next day I was again fined for assault. I was be- 
coming a regular gold mine for Sam Thompson, the trial 
justice. 

My only milch cow, which had a young calf, was killed, 
skinned, and butchered in the middle of the night within 
three hundred yards of my house. I traced the hide to a 
negro's house and recovered it. One of the women in the 
house had me arrested and fined for trespass. The fact 
that it was my house and that she paid me no rent for it 
did n't "cut any ice." 

When I went to the Hampton plantation I had an idea 
of helping these people, — there were several hundred of 
them, — and while I could give employment only to some 
fifteen or twenty, I gave all of them permission, not only to 
cut as much firewood as they needed out of the forest, but 
also to sell wood to the inhabitants of Columbia, and for 
this they were to pay me nothing. My reward was that 
when the cold weather came, instead of going out and cut- 
ting wood they ripped the planks from the interior of my 
houses and burned them, giving as an excuse that it was 
too far to the woods situated some four or five hundred 
yards away. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII 

The name Galapagos inspires the preacher — I take Northern friends to a 
prayer meeting — " Getting glory " — A chicken thief and a bulldog get hitched 
together — Death of Hector as a consequence — The preponderance of the 
evidence — Ball toilets in the middle of the day and champagne orgies on 
the main street — The comptroller of the State opens fire on the house of 
Colonel Black, U.S.A., the commandant — Moses, promised immunity, gives 
testimony in the fraudulent bond case — Questions of personal privilege — 
Nancy Eliot. 

My mother and unmarried sister came to stay with me 
at Hampton bringing with them my little nephew Howell 
Morgan, whose father had died a prisoner of war on John- 
son's Island, and after their arrival there was a change in 
my menage. Maum Margaret was discharged on the score 
of economy, and sad to say, several of her grown sons and 
daughters had to return to the fields and work for their 
bacon and hominy. A new cook and a maid were installed, 
and when we had company we commandeered "Monday," 
the head preacher on the place, who had once been a house 
servant before he found preaching more lucrative. It is 
hardly necessary to say that Monday was the biggest old 
scoundrel in the neighborhood. 

Hampton was the camp-meeting place where thousands 
of negroes assembled for an annual orgy, and Monday was 
getting his flock into condition for the great event. At the 
camp-meeting grounds an immense arbor of pine boughs 
had been erected and rough seats or benches installed. In 
Monday's flock were two girls, as black as ebony, named 
Blanche and Pearl, and had they been white they un- 
doubtedly would have made a sensation on the stage. 

Two of my Northern friends came to see me on my prom- 
ise that I would give them some good shooting, which, of 
course, I could do, as the place in those days was overrun 
with quail and rabbits. I wanted to amuse them and deter- 
mined to take them to my private theater, namely, a prayer 



\ 



324 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

meeting at the camp-ground. I confided my intention to 
Monday and told him that there was a dollar in it for him if 
he would work his congregation up in proper style, and a 
half-dollar each to Blanche and Pearl if they "got glory" 
in extra good form. Monday assured me I should be more 
than satisfied. 

At dinner we had some mock-turtle soup and the conver- 
sation turned to turtles. I remarked that in the Galapagos 
Islands turtles had been captured which weighed a ton and 
more, and the others had big turtle yarns to spin also. 
Every time the name Galapagos was mentioned I could see 
Monday's eyes fairly bulge. He was waiting on table, and 
knowing the negro's love for strange-sounding words which 
he did not understand, I rather suspected that there would 
be echoes from that one. After we had finished dinner and 
smoked our cigars, I proposed a visit to the prayer meeting. 
We approached the place from behind where the preacher 
was exhorting, and as we arrived we heard Monday from 
his rough pine board pulpit say: " My brederin, in dat great 
day when de angel ob de Lord come down and say 'Galli- 
pagos! GalHpagos! Galllpagos!' what den is you goin' to 
say?" And a roar came back from the congregation, 
"GalHpagos! Lord, GalHpagos!" 

As Monday went on exhorting, moans became more and 
more frequent, interspersed with shouts of "Glory!" and 
"I gettin* glory!" But the eyes of most of the spectators 
were fixed upon Blanche and Pearl, who slowly arose and 
began to move their feet, at first with great deliberation, 
and then with increasing speed while announcing in a 
most convincing manner that they were "gettin' glory." 
This went on until their bodies were writhing in the most 
wonderful contortions accompanied by occasional extra- 
ordinary leaps into the air, while uttering wild shrieks and 
blasphemies which I will not pain the reader by repeating. 
The performance ended by these girls falling to the ground 
in a fit and remaining there, foaming at the mouth, while 



A Chicken Thief and a Bulldog 325 

their bodies and limbs were as rigid as iron bars. Then they 
were taken up by men who lifted them by their heads and 
heels, and still rigid they were carried out to where water 
could be poured over them until they revived, and in a few 
minutes they were ready for another exhibition. 

Although there were some notoriously bad characters 
living on the place, I had no fear of their entering the house, 
but they would pilfer grain from the barn and rob the hen- 
roost. I slept on the lower floor and my bulldog stayed in 
my bedroom at night, and when any unusual noise occurred 
outside he would give me notice and I would open a window, 
out of which he would jump. If I heard any one yell I knew 
somebody was there, and I would go out and disengage 
Hector from him. 

There was a negro by the name of Renty who had served 
one or more terms in the penitentiary and who gave me a 
great deal of trouble. Nominally he lived in one of my 
houses, but as there were always warrants out for him, he 
spent most of his time hidden in a swamp, where his wife, a 
most excellent and hard-working woman, kept him supplied 
with food. 

One night the bulldog awakened me and, as usual, I let 
him out of the window, and soon heard moans of "Oh, my 
God! Oh, my God!" Taking a lantern with me I went to 
the chicken-house and found that Renty had used the 
open slats out of which it was built for a ladder and had 
climbed as high as possible, and dangling from his trousers 
was Hector, swinging like a pendulum. I persuaded Renty 
to come down, and when he reached the ground he suggested 
that I should get a chisel and hatchet and pry the dog loose. 
But I explained to Renty that since emancipation an 
English bulldog was worth a great deal more money to me 
than a free nigger, but offered a compromise: if he would 
remain perfectly still I would go into the house and get 
something that would make Hector let go. Procuring a 
handful of smoking tobacco I returned and sprinkled it on 



326 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

the dog's nose which caused him to sneeze, and Renty was 
freed from his viselike teeth. Three days after Hector was 
a dead dog, a piece of meat well sprinkled with powdered 
glass having been placed where the poor beast was sure to 
find it. 

Shortly after Hector's tragic death, I heard one night 
the whinny of a horse in my barn, and I got up and went 
to investigate its cause. I found backed up against the 
open barn door a one-horse spring wagon half loaded with 
my cow peas, and coming out of the door was my old 
friend Renty with a full bushel basket on his shoulder. 
He dropped the basket on seeing me and seemed in mor- 
tal terror that I was going to kill him, but I soon reas- 
sured the scoundrel, and ordered him to saddle a horse for 
me. It was between three and four o'clock in the morning 
and there was not as yet a soul stirring on the plantation. I 
made Renty mount his wagon and escorted him to Colum- 
bia. It was shortly after daylight when we arrived at the 
trial justice's office and we had not met a single human 
being on the way. We sat on the steps until Judge Sam 
Thompson opened his court at nine o'clock. I then made 
my charge against Renty and called attention to the cow 
peas in the wagon as my proof. The judge took Renty 
aside, and after some conversation, which I could not over- 
hear, "His Honor" informed me that he could not hear the 
case until one o'clock in the afternoon, and that in the mean 
time he would be responsible for the prisoner. 

When I returned to the court I found some fifteen or 
twenty negroes from the plantation assembled in the court- 
room ready to testify as witnesses. Renty took the stand 
himself and swore that he had never been in that barn in his 
life, — despite the fact that he had been a slave of the 
Hamptons and afterwards of the Trenholms, — not even 
in corn-shucking times when all the hands were gathered 
there. He could not explain how this was, but stuck to his 
story. Next he put a little girl on the stand who swore that 



The Preponderance of the Evidence 327 

she was his niece and was only eleven years of age. She also 
swore that her uncle had never been in the barn in his life. 
I asked her if she understood the nature of an oath, and she 
replied that the "debbil" would get her if she did not tell 
the truth. I then asked her to be careful about her answer 
to a question I would ask her. I told her that her uncle had 
sworn that he was thirty-seven years of age, and asked her 
if she was willing to swear that her uncle had never been 
in the barn during the twenty-six years that he had lived 
on that place before she was born; and she replied, "I swear 
to God he never was!" I turned to the judge and said, 
"Sam, you see what kind of a story this is." His Honor put 
on a solemn expression and replied, " I can't help it, suh, de 
preponderance ob de ebidence is agin you." 

But that was not all. The judge called Renty to him, and 
after a whispered conference, Renty entered a charge of 
assault against me ! And his witnesses all swore to the same 
story, namely, that Renty was driving his cart peaceably 
in the avenue and that I had come up on horseback and 
dragged him off his wagon and beat him in a most shameful 
manner. I realized at once the helplessness of my situation 
and became reckless. "Sam!" I shouted to the judge, "did 
you ever hear that I was a strong man?" "Yes," suavely 
replied His Ebony Honor: "everybody knows you is double- 
jinted." "Well," I said, "I want you to take a good look 
at Renty's face now and see how differently it will look after 
I drive him one from the shoulder." And with that I drew 
back to strike, but Renty was too quick for me, and with a 
wild cry of " Jedge, for God's sake, don't let him do it! " 
he dived under the table at which the judge was seated. It 
sounds very funny now, but it cost me fifty dollars then, 
and money was very scarce in South Carolina at that time. 

In those days strange sights could be witnessed in the 
streets of Columbia at any time. I remember — not only 
once, but on several occasions — seeing a handsome landau 
drawn by a spanking pair of high-stepping Kentucky horses 



328 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

and containing four negro wenches arrayed in low-neck and 
short-sleeved dresses, their black bosoms and arms covered 
with real jewels in the middle of the day, draw up in front 
of a barroom on Main Street where the wives and daughters 
of the old and impoverished aristocracy did their shopping. 
Out of the saloon would come the governor accompanied by 
several high state officials, followed by a servant bearing 
a waiter on which was champagne and glasses, and right 
there on the public sidewalk enter into a perfect orgy with 
the dusky belles. 

White carpetbaggers seemed to have so much money that 
they did not know what to do with it. I have seen one of 
them walk into a drinking saloon by himself and ostenta- 
tiously order a quart bottle of champagne, take one glass 
of it, and carelessly throw a ten- dollar bill on the counter 
and tell the barkeeper to keep the change; and this in a 
community where people bred in affluence were suffering 
for the very necessities of life. 

The salary of the comptroller was eighteen hundred dol- 
lars a year. Dr. Nagle, who held the office, had arrived in 
Columbia literally in rags. In the first year of his incum- 
bency — out of his salary, of course — he bought a fine 
house and a carriage and horses with gold-mounted harness 
among other things, and incidentally built a bridge across 
the Congaree River that must have cost thousands of dol- 
lars. This worthy official, returning home one day while 
drunk, caused quite a sensation, beating his wife unmer- 
cifully, and she fled from the house and took refuge in the 
home of Colonel Black, U.S.A., which was next door. 
Whereupon Nagle, armed with a Winchester rifle, began to 
pump lead through the sides of the commandant's frame 
house. The soldiers of the Eighteenth Infantry, hearing 
what was happening at the home of their beloved colonel, 
came from the barracks on the run, determined to have 
Nagle's gore, and tore down the picket fence in front of his 
house, before their officers arrived and stopped them. 



The Fraudulent Bonds Case 329 

Cardoza, a negro, was superintendent of public education, 
and Purvis, a Philadelphia mulatto, was adjutant-general 
of the State. These two men were considered by the natives 
to be the most respectable members of the State Govern- 
ment. A law was passed authorizing the issue of some twenty 
millions of state bonds, and it was supposed that a large 
number of fraudulent bonds were also printed. At all events, 
when Hampton upset the carpetbag government, Parker, 
the state treasurer, started a bonfire in his back yard which 
made so much smoke that the fire engines turned out and 
extinguished it, and to the amazement of the crowd which 
had rapidly assembled it was discovered that it was state 
bonds that he was burning. Parker was afterwards tried 
and convicted. Ex-Governor Moses was promised immunity 
if he would come back to the State and testify in the case, 
and to the astonishment of the court he volunteered the 
information that when he was speaker of the House of 
Representatives he had signed more than eighteen hundred 
thousand dollars of fraudulent pay certificates. The State 
House was overrun with young negroes who were down on 
the pay-rolls as "attaches" (they called themselves "taw- 
cheeses"), and that may have accounted for some of the 
money. 

The legislative halls of South Carolina presented a spec- 
tacle such as had never been seen before, and the like of 
which, let us hope, will never be witnessed again. The 
furnishings were very fine, especially the carpets and cus- 
pidors ; the latter were charged to the State at eighteen dol- 
lars each. The members were mostly negroes, as there was 
not a sufficient number of carpetbaggers to fill all the 
offices. The negro members from the upper part of the 
State reveled in the use of long words which they generally 
mispronounced, and those from the low country mostly 
talked in the sea island and ricefield pidgin English called 
"gulla," which is unintelligible to the stranger. For in- 
stance, they call all males "she" and all females "he"; and 



330 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

if they want to ask if you hear, they say " Yedium" ; and 
"Shum deh" is "Do you see it?" 

When in session the legislature was as good as a circus. 
I remember once, when one honorable member called an- 
other honorable member "a liar," the offended Solon jumped 
to his feet yelling: "?vlr. Speaker! I rises to a question of 
pussonal privilege. I wants dat ricefield nigger to under- 
stand dat I won't stand none ob his insinuendos agin me!" 

General Worthington, who had been an officer in the 
Union volunteer army, and who had been one of the pall- 
bearers at the funeral of President Lincoln, came to South 
Carolina immediately after he had been mustered out of 
the service and found no difficulty in having himself elected 
to Congress. One day he was busily engaged in lobbying a 
bill through the legislature, and while holding a huge bunch 
of greenbacks in one hand, which he occasionally waved 
aloft as he passed from the seat of one member to that of 
another, suddenly a negro jumped to his feet and claimed 
the recognition of the Speaker on a question of privilege. 
When asked to state it, he said he had just been informed 
that General Worthington had given another member 
twenty-five dollars for his vote on the bill, and he had only 
given him, the protestor, five dollars. He wanted that 
''white man" to understand that his vote was worth as 
much as that of any ricefield nigger from Santee or any other 
part of the State ! In any State north of the Potomac this 
brazen confession would have landed a member of the legis- 
lature in the penitentiary, but in the legislative halls of 
South Carolina it only caused a roar of laughter at the 
expense of the cheap lawmaker. 

The speaker of the House was a very highly educated and 
able man, as black as a highly polished boot; some said that 
he was a Jamaica negro who had been to school in England 
and others insisted that he was a product of Harvard Uni- 
versity. Be that as it may, he certainly was one of the most 
brilliant orators I ever heard speak. His name was Eliot, 



Nancy Eliot 331 

and he evidently had a susceptible heart, for in the midst of 
his meteoric career of loot and pillage he fell desperately in 
love with Nancy, the most beautiful mulatto girl in Colum- 
bia. Nancy was the nursemaid for Mrs. Heyward's little 
children, and although the Heywards, like all other aristo- 
crats, had been impoverished by the war, and Nancy was 
then free, not even the high wages offered by the carpet- 
baggers could tempt her to leave those little children of whom 
she was fond. But Eliot offered marriage, and the girl was 
dazzled by the high position to which he proposed to raise 
her, and tearfully she left the Heyward home to become the 
proud wife of the wealthy speaker. Nancy had been brought 
up among aristocrats and she knew how to do things. She 
was no sooner married than she set up a handsome estab- 
lishment, and she could be seen in full ball toilet, in the 
middle of the day, with her neck and arms covered with 
jewels, driving down Main Street. But besides the love 
of finery Nancy had another side to her character. No- 
thing could have induced her to stop in front of Mrs. Hey- 
ward's house in that costume or in her carriage, but in the 
cool of the afternoon, Nancy, arrayed in the neat cap and 
apron of a nursemaid, would stop her carriage around the 
corner from her former mistress's home, and alighting would 
walk to the house and beg to be allowed to take the children 
out. The people who had seen her in gala attire in the mid- 
dle of the day would behold the strange spectacle of the 
same Nancy, as demure as a novice, seated on the front seat 
of her own landau, with the children occupying the back 
seat. Everybody liked Nancy and her promenades with the 
children were among the strange features of that strange 
time. Nancy attended one of the inauguration balls In 
Washington and was said to have been one of the most 
beautifully gowned women of the occasion. 



CHAPTER XXXIX 

Corrupt judiciary — Melton voted for Seymour and Blair, but bet his 
money on Grant — Feud between Attorney-General Melton and Colonel 
Montgomery in which Mr. Caldwell was killed and I was wounded. 

The judiciary was as corrupt as the legislature — and 
that is saying a great deal. An imported negro sat on the 
supreme bench, his colleagues being white carpetbaggers. 
There was talk about impeaching a negro judge of one of 
the district courts in the lower part of the State, and Judge 
Moses, an uncle of the governor, was actually impeached by 
the piebald legislature because he got away with a large 
amount of property belonging to a white widow and her 
fatherless children while the estate was in the hands of the 
court. The outrage was so flagrant that even the Govern- 
ment at Washington took notice of it, and orders came from 
the national capital that not only must such things stop, but 
that more honest men must be elected to the judgeships at 
the next election. Moses was only allowed thirteen days 
to prepare for his defense. While walking on the street 
one day, and longing for human sympathy, he met Major 
Melton, a famous wit and likewise a stammerer. ** Major," 
said the judge, "history does not record such an outrage as 
a man being allowed only thirteen days to prepare for his 
defense in a trial!" "Hold on, judge," replied Melton, 
"the Bible, which is the foundation of history, records that 
your people did n't allow our Saviour thirteen minutes!" 

Major Melton was a native-born South Carolinian, a 
lawyer by profession, and he had served throughout the 
war as an officer in the Confederate Army. That he was a 
dyed-in-the-wool Democrat, no one doubted until the time 
came for the legislature to elect new district judges. Judi- 
cial timber among the carpetbaggers was scarce. Washing- 
ton was peremptory in its orders that a higher class of men 
should be placed on the bench, and the legislature did not 



Feud between Melton and Montgomery 333 

dare disobey its orders, as they full well knew that they 
could not exist an hour if the Administration withdrew the 
troops. So they issued an invitation to all lawyers who cared 
to accept judgeships to appear before the legislature and 
address that august body. To the amazement of everybody 
Melton was one of those who appeared. He was a fine orator 
and made them an eloquent Republican speech, and was 
getting on finely until an old negro member interrupted him 
with " Dat's all very fine, Mr. Melton, but who you vote for 
last election?" The question brought Melton to his stam- 
mering and he replied, " I vo-vo- voted for Sey-seymour and 
Blair." A roar of laughter interspersed with jeers greeted 
this confession, but Melton's voice soon dominated the 
situation and he was heard to say, "Ho-ho-hold on; / bet 
my money on Grant I " His quickness saved and elected him. 

Afterwards Judge Melton was elected attorney-general 
of the State and unfortunately became involved in a news- 
paper controversy with Colonel Montgomery, the president 
pro tern of the Senate, in which several vituperative letters 
were exchanged. Montgomery was also a Southern man 
who had become a Republican. The public were freely dis- 
cussing the fiery correspondence and it was the general 
opinion that a personal difficulty would result from it. 

I was in Columbia one day when a particularly abusive 
letter over the signature of Montgomery appeared in the 
paper. I did not know the president pro tern of the Senate, 
and had only a bowing acquaintance with Judge Melton. I 
had attended to some business I had in the city and had 
mounted my horse with the intention of returning to my 
home, when on Main Street I met young Mr. Caldwell, a 
cotton broker, and one of the few men in Columbia who had 
any money. Mr. Caldwell hailed me and asked me to dis- 
mount and accompany him to Pollock's Restaurant and 
have luncheon with him. I laughingly declined, at the same 
time pointing to the well-known horse I was riding, a 
wicked thoroughbred stallion, who a short time before had 



334 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

killed a man. Mr. Caldwell called a negro man who was 
standing on the corner and asked him if he would not hold 
the horse, telling me that the man had formerly been the 
horse's groom. I dismounted and walked down the street 
with my host. 

Arriving at the restaurant we saw that the long table in 
the public dining-room was fully occupied, and Mr. Cald- 
well proposed that we go upstairs into a private room, 
where we had our meal and were just finishing it when a 
servant brought Mr. Caldwell a card. Turning to me my 
host asked if I had any objections to having Judge Melton 
join us, as he, Mr. Caldwell, had something very particular 
to tell him. Of course I said that I would be delighted to see 
the judge, and he was ushered into the room. Mr. Caldwell 
and the judge went over to a window and entered into a 
conversation which did not last over three minutes. I never 
learned what the subject discussed was. The three of us then 
descended the stairs and Mr. Caldwell went to the cashier's 
desk to pay the bill. Mr. Caldwell tendered a bank-note of 
rather large denomination, and while we waited for the 
change he asked me if I had ever seen Colonel Montgomery, 
and on being told that I had not seen him to know him, 
he pointed toward the dining-room, the door of which was 
open, and said: "The man seated at the head of the table 
is Captain Tupper, and the man on his right is the presi- 
dent pro tern of the Senate." "Yes," I replied, "and there 
goes Judge Melton into that room. Those men will surely 
have a difficulty." Mr. Caldwell said, "I will stop him"; 
and started for the door, I following. I was two or three 
steps behind Caldwell, and as I entered the room I saw Mel- 
ton with his open hand slap Montgomery in the face, and 
the two clinched, upset the chair, and rolled on to the floor. 
Instantly Captain Tupper rose from his chair, drawing it 
back with his left hand as with his right he drew a revolver 
from his hip pocket. He raised the weapon and fired, and as 
he did so Caldwell threw up his arms and with a gasp fell 



A Shooting Affray 335 

dead in my arms. I laid him gently on the floor and as I 
raised my head I heard a bullet whistle near my left ear. 
Thinking I had better hurry, I stepped over Caldwell's 
dead body, and leaped over the two struggling men on 
the floor while Tupper was again cocking his pistol with 
his eyes now glued on Judge Melton, who was on top of 
Montgomery. Tupper was standing between two windows, 
and I felt certain that I could throw him out of one of them 
before he could shoot Melton. I picked him up, and in an- 
other instant I would have sailed him through the window, 
when to my surprise he reached over my left shoulder and, 
pressing the muzzle of his pistol against my back, just below 
the point of the shoulder blade, he pulled the trigger. My 
left arm fell limply by my side and Tupper dropped to the 
floor, landing on his feet. With my right hand I grabbed the 
wrist of the hand which still held the smoking pistol and it 
dropped to the floor at my feet. I could easily have picked it 
up and killed him with it, but I felt sure that I had my death 
wound, and I did not wish to go before my Maker with the 
blood of another on my hands ; so I compromised by telling 
Tupper that before I went I was going to give him the worst 
beating he ever had had. 

While this was going on, the guests, who a moment before 
had been enjoying their meal, were panic-stricken; those 
who were near the door rushed through it, and the rest 
sought safety under the tables. In such emergencies singu- 
lar ideas sometimes flash through the mind. I could have 
done all I wanted to do to Captain Tupper just as well where 
I was as in any other place, but it seemed to me that I 
wanted room, and plenty of room, so I threw my right arm 
around his body, lifted him on to my hip, and carried him out 
of a side door leading into an alley. I then dropped him on to 
his feet and before he could recover from his surprise, I must 
have struck him a pretty hard blow, for the back of his head 
was the first thing that struck the bricks. I felt that I must 
hurry, as my strength was fast failing, and I leaped upon 



336 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

his prostrate body. Tupper was a very handsome man and 
seemed to have but one idea and that was to save his face, 
which he covered with his hands. I would hit his hands so 
hard that the pain would make him remove them for an 
instant and before he could get them back I would smash 
him again. Tupper was dressed in a white duck suit and I 
in tweeds of a red and brown hue. The blood rushing out of 
my wound saturated his white clothes and I must confess 
he was a gory-looking object. Several negro policemen ar- 
rived on the scene and began to club me. The sheriff came, 
and after I was pulled off of Tupper, asked me if I was not 
ashamed to beat a man in that way after I had shot him. 
To my insistence that Tupper had killed Mr. Caldwell, and 
that it was my blood which saturated his clothes, I could get 
no credence. The sympathies of the representatives of the 
law were all with Mr. Tupper, and the police dragged me 
off to jail, and although I offered no resistance they twisted 
my arms, especially the injured one, in a most brutal man- 
ner — Judge Melton (who accompanied me) protesting all 
the way against my being treated so roughly. It was some 
little time after I reached the jail that the sheriff found out 
the true state of affairs and arrested Captain Tupper. Mr. 
Clarke, a lawyer at that time, and now the president of a 
bank (I am glad to say he is still living — 191 6), came hur- 
riedly to the jail in a carriage and took Judge Melton and 
myself to the judge's home, where I was laid on a bed until 
the doctors and their operating- table arrived, and then they 
began to carve and probe me for the bullet. Three separate 
times did they strap me to that leather-covered table during 
the three months I was absolutely helpless, and they wanted 
to dig into me a fourth time, but I protested against their 
doing so until I could have a talk with Mr. Trenholm, who 
at my request left his important affairs in Charleston to 
come to me. I could not speak in a voice above a whisper, 
but I managed to tell my best friend that if I was put on that 
operating-table again I would die under the knife and that 



A Champagne Cure 337 

I preferred to die in my bed. Mr. Trenholm told me that it 
was the opinion of the surgeons that I surely would die un- 
less they extracted the bullet, and I told him that they did 
not know where the bullet was and were only groping 
blindly in my body. Mr. Trenholm asked the doctors if I 
would live if they found the lead, and they replied that they 
could give no assurance to that effect, but that I would cer- 
tainly die unless it was found. Under these circumstances 
my friend agreed with me that it would be better for me to 
be allowed to pass away quietly in my bed. 

When the decision was announced, the doctors told Mr. 
Trenholm that I could have anything I wanted, as nothing 
would hurt me, and the kind old gentleman leaned over me 
and asked if there was anything I desired to have and was 
amazed when I murmured "champagne." The doctor told 
him it would be better to humor me, as I might fret if it was 
denied me, adding that I would not be able to swallow it. 
A small glassful of the wine was put to my lips and I took one 
good swallow, and then my throat seemed to contract so that 
I could not have taken another if my life depended upon it, 
and in a few minutes I dozed off into a profound slumber, 
the first sleep I had had in three months without the use 
of chloral, and I did not awake from it for two hours. The 
first thing I asked for on opening my eyes was cham- 
pagne, and this time I was able to drain the glass and then 
slept for five hours. 

When the surgeons came the next morning to dress my 
wound, they were surprised to find my condition so im- 
proved and ordered more champagne, and from that mo- 
ment I began to get better. Why I craved champagne is a 
mystery to me, as it is a wine I never cared for when in my 
normal condition. 

India-rubber tubing had been inserted to drain my 
wound, and every morning the surgeons would take it out 
to cleanse it and then they would put it back; this hurt 
worse than the probing and cutting did. To have a bullet 



338 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

enter one's body is not such an unpleasant sensation as 
would be imagined, but oh, the agony of the probe and 
forceps, especially when a surgeon makes a mistake and tries 
to pull out something that is not the bullet — as happened 
tome. 

While I was lying helpless in Judge Melton's home the 
house caught fire one day. The soot in one of the chimneys 
became ignited and fell on the shingle roof causing quite a 
blaze. A young gentleman by the name of Richard Bacot, 
who when a boy had run away and gone to sea before the 
mast, performed a rather remarkable feat. There was no 
ladder on the premises, but the sailor did not need one; 
he went up the lightning rod hand over hand and tore away 
the burning shingles with his bare hands, and of course was 
burned very badly. Mr. Bacot was in the house when the 
alarm was given, as he had kindly volunteered to assist in 
nursing me. 

When I was able to be up and about again, the trial of 
Captain Tupper for the killing of Mr. Caldwell was begun, 
and of course I was one of the witnesses called by the 
State. I described what had taken place and also told the 
court that I did not blame Captain Tupper for shooting 
me, as I surely would have thrown him out of the window 
if he had not done so. I was not cross-examined, but the 
trial took on the appearance of a French court, where they 
do what is called "reconstituting" the tragedy. I was made 
to place officials of the court in the positions occupied by 
the principals of the deplorable affair and show how Tupper 
arose from his chair and fired the fatal shot; how Caldwell 
fell dead in my arms, and how I laid him down on the floor 
and stepped over his body and leaped over Melton and 
Montgomery as they struggled with each other, etc., etc. 
It was my first appearance in public as an actor, and thank 
Heaven, my last. 

Captain Tupper, testifying in his own behalf, said that 
he had had no intention of shooting until he saw me enter 



A Carpetbag Murder Trial 339 

the room, and then, fearing that I would kill him if I got 
my hands on him, he had fired his revolver in self-defense. 
Why he should have expected an attack from me I cannot 
imagine, as I had never before spoken half a dozen words 
to him in our short acquaintance. 

Judge Carpenter, who presided at the trial, was a carpet- 
bagger, a man of considerable learning and ability, but un- 
fortunately he would go, periodically, on the most frightful 
debauches. The jury was a mixed one of whites and blacks 
and they brought in a verdict of guilty. Captain Tupper 
was sentenced to the penitentiary, but he never went there. 
He was nominally kept in the jail at Columbia for some 
months. I was told that his room in the prison in the day- 
time resembled a club, where he entertained his friends very 
hospitably. Sheriff Dent and his sons were friends of 
Tupper and at night, with Tupper, they would visit the 
places of amusement. After several months of such nom- 
inal confinement. Captain Tupper was pardoned by Gov- 
ernor Franklin J. Moses, and shortly after securing his free- 
dom, he was elected mayor of Summerville, South Carolina. 
He killed another man and died an honored(?) citizen in the 
community in which he lived. 

If the above facts were not a matter of record in the 
courts and elsewhere, I would fear to put them on paper, 
as they seem to be so preposterous in Anno Domini 191 6. 
The story of the Reconstruction period in South Carolina 
has never been told in print except in the files of the 
"Charleston News and Courier," and now that nearly all 
of those who passed through that nightmare have passed 
away, I fear that the present generation will never realize 
its horrors. But believe me, South Carolina was the nearest 
approach to a hell on earth during the orgy of the carpet- 
baggers and negroes that ever a refined and proud people 
were subjected to. 



CHAPTER XL 

Cotton-picking by moonlight — Swindled by a carpetbagger out of my hay 
crop — Legislative debates — Confiscation by taxation — Poverty no bar 
to marrying and giving in marriage — Hound dog gives the alarm and saves 
my family from death when house catches fire — Pay taxes in a novel way, 
and sell Hampton plantation — Move to Charleston. 

As a cotton planter I was a failure. Negroes, who culti- 
vated in a desultory manner a half-acre of poor ground ca- 
pable of producing a quarter of a bale of cotton, marketed 
five or six. This was made possible by the proximity of the 
cotton-fields of the white planters, and moonlight nights, 
combined with the fact that low whites had established near 
each large plantation country grocery stores where they 
exchanged bacon, hominy, and whiskey for ^inginned cot- 
ton. In fact they were simply fences where stolen goods 
could be disposed of. 

There were hundreds of acres of bottom lands on the 
plantation which produced a luxuriant growth of natural 
grass which grew to a great height and made very good hay. 
This crop alone should have brought me in a very good 
income, but there were almost insurmountable difficulties 
in the harvesting of it. Like most of my neighbors I had 
great quantities of land, but very little ready money. 

There was also a very good water-power on the place, 
furnished by a creek which divided the estate into two 
parts. Once there had been a gristmill on its banks, but 
Sherman had destroyed it and the dam ; only the millstones 
were left intact. General Dennis, a carpetbagger, superin- 
tendent of the penitentiary, sized up my situation and 
generously (?) came to my relief with a proposition that if 
I would give hwn the hay crop, he would build a dam and 
rehabilitate the mill for me. I grabbed at the offer as a 
drowning man would at a straw, with the result that Gen- 
eral Dennis brought his convicts down to the plantation, 



The Legislative Circus 341 

harvested the hay, and when the last load had safely come 
across the bridge he tore that structure down and pretended 
for a few days to be busily engaged in repairing my dam. 
He soon wearied of the farce and I saw no more of either 
him, his convicts, or my hay crop. I had enough sense left 
not to go to law with him about it, as a negro jury or a car- 
petbag judge would surely have decided in favor of Dennis, 
who was a political leader. I simply should have had to 
pay the costs of court, and should have been lucky if they 
had not awarded Dennis damages against me. 

Things were fast going from bad to worse. Ill-gotten 
wealth and power had made the carpetbaggers more arro- 
gant and offensive than ever, and day by day the ignorant 
negroes became more impossible to deal with. In the coun- 
try a white woman did not dare go more than fifty paces 
from her own front door, and after every outrage there was 
a lynching as sure as the night followed day. There was 
very little secrecy about it and everybody knew who the 
lynchers were, but the carpetbag and city negro constables 
felt a delicacy about risking "malaria "by going into the 
country to make arrests. 

The only place of amusement open in Columbia was the 
legislative circus, whose real business was transacted by 
some half a dozen white scamps in the privacy of their com- 
mittee rooms while the ricefield negroes from the low coun- 
try and the cornfield negroes from the up-country mouthed 
and made faces at each other on the floor of the House, 
laboring under the impression that they were engaged in 
important argument. 

There was a shrewd negro member by the name of 
Beverly Nash, who prided himself on his courtly manners 
and his knowledge of legislative etiquette, and it was said 
that no white carpetbagger had ever been smart enough 
to get away with his (Nash's) share of the swag in any 
public robbery. Beverly had been the body-servant of 
an ante-bellum member of the legislature, and in the old 



342 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

days had attended his master at many sessions of that 
august body. Whenever the language in debate between 
the negroes grew too heated, or too strong, Beverly would 
always arise to a question of personal privilege, and preface 
his remarks by saying: "Mr. Speaker, when real gentlemen 
used to occupy these seats befo' de wah, dey nevah used no 
sich language as dat widout somebody got shot or else got 
der heads knocked off wif a gov'ment inkstand!" 

Rumors of the outrageous and excessive taxation imposed 
upon the citizens by the legislature had reached even the 
ears of a Republican Congress, and an investigating com- 
mittee was sent to Columbia. If they ever conferred with 
or examined anybody besides the leading carpetbaggers, I 
never heard of it. The Congressmen were informed by these 
worthies that the landowners had no cause for complaint, 
as they were taxed only two and a half per cent on the value 
of their property and that the people of New York State 
were taxed at the same rate, and this appeared to the Con- 
gressmen to be fair enough. But the carpetbaggers did not 
tell the committee that in New York a man was taxed on 
one half to two thirds of the actual value of his property, 
and in South Carolina on ten times as much as it could pos- 
sibly be sold for. Take my case as an example. The Hamp- 
ton plantation was taxed on a valuation of some two hun- 
dred and sixty-odd thousand dollars. I went before the 
"board of equalization," which the committee had insisted 
should be organized and which, of course, was composed 
entirely of carpetbaggers, and made my protest, with no 
avail. I even offered to sell the property to any member of 
the board for thirty thousand dollars, but they had looked 
up the records and found that Mr. Trenholm had paid the 
Hamptons in 1862, when Confederate money was worth 
something, one million dollars besides giving them a 
bond for three hundred thousand dollars payable in gold 
six months after peace was declared between the North 
and South. They considered that they were letting me off 



A Tax Sale 343 

very cheap, and declined to take into consideration the fact 
that when Mr. Trenholm had purchased, there were hun- 
dreds of slaves, and herds of blooded horses and cattle, 
besides flocks of sheep of rare breeds and also Angora goats. 
So far as my offer to sell them the property for thirty thou- 
sand dollars was concerned, they were a "board of equali- 
zation," and not real estate speculators. 

At last the day came when my property was put up for 
sale for past-due taxes. Of course no Southern gentleman, 
even if he had had the money, would have bid for the estate 
of a fellow sufferer at a tax sale, but there were creatures 
who had plenty of cash who would. I told the auctioneer 
that I hoped he would get more for the plantation than the 
taxes amounted to, as I would appreciate what was left over. 
The auctioneer smiled and invited me to talk to the crowd 
and invite them to bid. I told him I would be delighted to 
do so. It was rumored in the crowd that Nagle, the comp- 
troller, was going to buy the property. I told the assemblage 
that it was useless for me to tell them anything about the 
plantation, as they knew it as well as I did, but what I did 
want to tell them was that that place was my home and I 
would fill the man who came on it with a tax title so full of 
lead he would never be able to swim again. Instantly the 
crowd began to call for Nagle, urging him to buy, and assur- 
ing him that he would never die of chills and fever if he did. 
There were no bids and the sale was postponed for another 
month, and month after month on every sales- day it was 
offered and every time it was put up for sale the crowd would 
begin to yell for Nagle and urge him to buy. After some 
months, without any explanation, the auctioneer no longer 
offered it for sale; and for a time his reasons were an inex- 
plicable mystery to the natives, who knew that it was im- 
possible that I could have raised money enough to pay the 
taxes. 

The Southerner is a queer composition. As a good piece 
of breakfast bacon is streaked with lean and fat, so is his 



344 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

character made up of layers of gayety and sadness. A sor- 
rowful gloom spreads over his countenance as he listens to 
some favorite song, such as "There will be a vacant chair," 
or, "Under the rosebush there is a grave," and the next 
instant he will be roaring with laughter over a witty remark, 
or gayly dash off into the mazes of the dance. In this Re- 
construction period he held public meetings at which he 
proclaimed his intention of shaking off the yoke of his car- 
petbag and negro tyrants, and yet insisted that under no 
circumstances would he break his parole by raising his hand 
against the United States Government troops. All the same 
he was grimly determined that his persecutors should go: 
in carriages, if they would, or in hearses, if they must. The 
grave consequences which might follow what he intended 
to do did not dampen his spirits, however, and he had his 
barbecues and his shoots for turkeys, and also his balls 
where dress coats were not to be seen and where his devoted 
women appeared in cheap muslin gowns, their very sim- 
plicity still more endearing them to the hearts of the men 
who loved them so dearly and were so proud of them. 

Poverty was no bar to matrimony and there were marry- 
ing and giving in marriage. The young men took no 
thought of what the future might have in store, and the 
young girls, brought up in an atmosphere of self-denial, 
willingly took the risks with the men they loved. I was 
not different from the other young men with whom I asso- 
ciated, and amid the mutterings of the coming storm and 
while the old Confederate veterans were forming rifle 
clubs all over the State, I married Miss Gabriella Burroughs, 
a granddaughter of former Chancellor William Ford De 
Saussure, the head of an old Huguenot family, and my sis- 
ter Sarah, whose journal, "Diary of a Confederate Girl," 
was published recently (191 5), married Captain Francis 
W. Dawson, who had become the editor ©f the "Charles- 
ton News and Courier." My wedding took place some 
months before that of my sister, and after the ceremony I 



A Narrow Escape from Fire 345 

took my bride to the plantation. It was a dark night and 
the negroes had, as a compliment to the bride, built bonfires 
of pine knots which lit up the stately oaks in the avenue 
and made quite an impressive picture. Fires in the night 
have always had a fascination for me, but that night I got 
more than I cared for. 

My mother and sister occupied the second story of the 
frame house, and there was only one staircase leading from 
the wide hall to the upper chambers, and in that hall was 
kept burning a kerosene swinging lamp on account of my 
mother being nervous. My bedroom was on the lower floor. 

There was no use my trying to keep watch dogs, as I 
knew from experience that the negroes who liked chickens 
and things would poison them as fast as I brought them 
home. About the premises, however, was an old hound 
whose name was Blitzen — "peace be to her ashes." Blit- 
zen was the kind of a hound dog that every one liked 
to kick around — she was absolutely good for nothing, or 
so we all thought. She could neither trail a fox nor give 
tongue on a trail. No one had ever heard her bark at the 
approach of a stranger, and her only interest in life was to 
lie outside of the kitchen door and sleepily wait for the 
bones the cook would occasionally throw to, or at, her, 
according to the humor of that important person at the 
moment. In the middle of the night I heard a dog whining 
and scratching at the back door and I got up to investigate. 
As I opened my bedroom door imagine my horror when I 
beheld the yellow pine floor of the hall in flames at the very 
foot of the staircase, the only possible means of escape for 
my mother and sister. The kerosene lamp had exploded 
and covered the floor with burning oil. I rushed back into 
the bedroom, jerked the blankets off the bed, and with them 
managed to smother the flames, but not before my hands 
were badly burned. From that time to the day of her death 
no one was ever allowed again to "kick that hound dog 
around." 



346 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

As time went on my financial condition made my posi- 
tion on the plantation more and more untenable, until one 
day Colonel Childs, a banker, told me that he would buy 
my property if I would pay the taxes up to date. I laughed 
at such an offer, as it was of course impossible, or I thought 
it was, for me to comply with the terms. Colonel Childs 
then advised me, as a mere matter of curiosity, to go to the 
tax collector and find out the exact amount due. I did so, 
and to my amazement was told that the taxes had been 
paid ! I demanded to know the name of the person who had 
paid them, and after demurring until the carpetbagger con- 
cluded that it would be more comfortable to give me the 
information than to have a row, he told me that Dr. Nagle, 
the comptroller of the State, had paid them. Almost burst- 
ing with rage and indignation I hurried to the State House 
and was fortunate enough to find Nagle alone in his office. 
As I entered he looked up uneasily and with his right hand 
started to open a drawer. I suspected that there was a pistol 
in that drawer, and quickly putting my hand on my hip 
pocket exclaimed, "Stop that!" — and his arm fell limply 
to his side. I wasted no time, but at once plunged into a 
statement of the object of my visit, demanding to know what 
he meant by his insolence in paying the taxes on my prop- 
erty. He stammered for a moment, and then assured me 
that he did not wish to have any trouble with me, and that 
he had only paid the taxes to rid himself of the monthly 
annoyance of having all the toughs of the town howling to 
him to buy my property, their only purpose being to make 
trouble for him with me. Reaching a bundle of tax receipts, 
which were in a pigeon-hole in his desk, he handed them to 
me, saying that rather than have anymore trouble about the 
matter I was welcome to them. He could well afford to be 
generous, for Heaven only knows what the amount of this 
fellow's stealings were from the State. 

Within the hour after my pleasant interview with Nagle 
I was back at the bank and amazed Colonel Childs by hand- 



The Hampton Plantation Sold 347 

ing him the tax receipts. The transfer of the titles to the 
estate were quickly completed, and I moved to Charleston 
where I accepted a position in the office of the " News and 
Courier" tendered to me by my brother-in-law Captain 
Dawson. 



CHAPTER XLI 

Friendly shooting- match — Dancing the "Too Ral Loo" — Negro mobs — 
Dawson wounded — U.S. Regulars attacked with stones — General Hunt, 
U.S.A., takes command of the rifle clubs — This action costs General Hunt 
his promotion on retirement — Feud between Governor Chamberlain and 
Captain Bowen, the sheriff of Charleston County. 

The political situation in Charleston looked even more 
ominous than that in Columbia. The white carpetbaggers 
had begun to quarrel among themselves and the negroes 
were becoming enraged because the white rascals reserved 
for themselves all the best places in the gift of the State. 
Before I went to Charleston there had been a shooting- 
match at a meeting of the board of aldermen. Cunningham, 
a carpetbagger, of course, was mayor, and he had in some 
way incurred the enmity of the two Mackeys, Thomas Jef- 
ferson and William M. (cousins). Some hot words passed 
between these affectionate relatives and simultaneously 
they drew their revolvers and opened fire. The other alder- 
men dived under the table, as did the mayor, and well for 
him that he did In time, for after the smoke cleared away 
it was discovered that all of the bullets had struck the wall 
in a small circle just behind where the mayor's head had 
been. Of course neither of the Mackeys had been hurt. The 
latter were what we called "scalawags" — Southern men 
who for office had joined our persecutors. William Mackey, 
to strengthen his hold on the negro vote, married a quadroon 
girl who he claimed was a descendant of General Sumter, of 
Revolutionary fame. 

I saw a queer sight soon after my arrival in Charleston. 
The negroes seemed to have gone crazy and were constantly 
parading the streets — men and women — singing and 
dancing a dance they called the "Too Ral Loo." They would 
gather by the hundreds on the beautiful Battery, and with 
the steps familiar in the "cake-walk" they would chant the 



Street Mobs 349 

refrain, " I am dancing the Too Ral Loo." However, as they 
molested no one, nobody interfered with them. 

Greatly enjoying their license to take possession of the 
streets, the mobs formed without provocation with more and 
more frequency, and as long as they confined their activi- 
ties to dancing and singing no one seemed to mind their 
vagaries, but becoming emboldened they began to throw 
stones. That was the signal for the rifle clubs to repair to 
their armories, and well it was for the ignorant creatures 
that the clubs were composed mostly of veterans of the war, 
who were under perfect discipline, or else there would have 
been a massacre. 

Captain Dawson, who was indefatigable in his efforts 
to redeem the State from carpetbag rule, lashed the mis- 
creants unmercifully with his virile pen and never failed to 
expose their rascalities and pillory them before the public. 
The carpetbaggers in revenge had taught the negroes to 
hate Dawson more bitterly than any other white man in the 
State. Dawson had the energy of a steam engine and usually 
worked at his desk until two or three o'clock in the morning. 
The only physical exercise he allowed himself was to ride 
on horseback from his home to his office and back again for 
his meals. A mob assembled in Broad Street one day, and 
Dawson, on his way home, rode through it with the result 
that a perfect fusillade of revolver shots were turned loose 
on him and one bullet struck him in the leg. He continued 
on his way home, where he had his wound bound up, ate his 
lunch, and then, mounting his horse, rode back to his office, 
passing through the rioters again — this time without being 
hurt. 

General Henry J. Hunt, U.S.A., who had commanded the 
artillery in the Army of the Potomac from the crack of the 
first gun to Appomattox, was in command of the military 
district in which Charleston was situated, and unlike his 
predecessors he was very much respected by the natives. 
He knew that the white people did not intend to lift a 



350 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

finger against the United States Government again, and 
he had kept but one skeleton company of artillery at the 
arsenal where he had his headquarters. There were only 
some thirty-odd men in the company. 

One day a mob of several thousand negro men and women 
gathered near the City Hall, and became very violent in 
their threats, which this time were directed principally 
against the white carpetbaggers, who they claimed had got 
all the swag and had not divided fairly with them, and they 
clamored for their blood. The carpetbaggers were badly 
frightened, fled to the arsenal, and begged General Hunt 
for protection. General Hunt at once marched his skele- 
ton company to the scene of the riot, and arriving at the 
intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets he came face to 
face with the mob, which did not seem disposed to give way 
before his troops, whom he had ordered to ground arms 
while he advanced and commanded the rioters to disperse. 
This order was replied to with jeers and curses, and while 
General Hunt was trying to persuade them to go quietly 
to their homes, they began to throw bricks and stones at 
the soldiers. I was on the sidewalk near where the soldiers 
were drawn up, and never did I see a better example of dis- 
cipline than was exhibited by those poor fellows standing 
there like statues, with their faces bleeding, while they 
awaited orders under a perfect shower of missiles. General 
Hunt knew that every negro in the crowd carried a weapon, 
either pistol or razor, and he also knew that by sheer 
weight of numbers they could sweep his small command off 
the street if they rushed them. In this dilemma he asked 
some of the white bystanders if they could point out to him 
the commander of the rifle clubs of which he had heard. 
They directed him to a one-legged man, General Conner, 
a veteran of the war, and General Hunt requested him to 
call out the clubs, and form them behind his regulars. 
Almost instantly there was heard a bell tolling in the 
steeple of old St. Michael's. This was the signal agreed 



The Charleston Rifle Clubs 351 

upon, and as though by magic there came a rush of several 
companies of infantry, a battery of artillery, and a squad- 
ron of cavalry. The negroes knew these men, and before 
they had fairly taken up their stations in support of the 
regulars, the mob had melted away, and in less than ten 
minutes there was not a black face to be seen on the street. 

The sequel to this incident was as follows: It was, and is, 
the custom that when a veteran officer who served in the 
war retires he is given an additional grade. General Hunt 
was a colonel in the regular army with as fine a record as any 
officer in it. During the war commanders-in-chief were fre- 
quently changed, but no one ever suggested the idea that 
General Hunt could be improved upon as chief of artillery. 
When he came up for retirement, however, on account of 
age, he was retired with only his rank of colonel through 
some unseen influence, which came out of hiding when an 
effort was made to pass a bill through Congress to give him 
the additional grade. The very carpetbaggers whose worth- 
less lives he had saved flocked to Washington and protested 
against his promotion on the ground that he was a rebel 
sympathizer and had on one occasion taken command of the 
rebel rifle clubs and used them to cow the loyal element in 
Charleston ! 

At the time of the riots in Charleston bitter dissensions 
had sprung up among the white carpetbaggers, the most 
important being that between Bowen, the sheriff of Charles- 
ton County, who wielded great influence over the negroes, 
and Daniel H. Chamberlain, who was then governor of the 
State. 

Bowen was the felon who had occupied the cell in the 
Charleston jail into which Mr. Trenholm, the former 
Secretary of the Confederate Treasury, had been thrust on 
his arrival in Charleston. Bowen had been released at 
the time of the general jail delivery when Charleston was 
captured. He had taken refuge on one of the sea islands 
where he acquired great influence over the negroes during 



352 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

the military rule, and when the Reconstruction began and 
the carpetbaggers took charge, he came forth from his se- 
clusion a full-blown politician. 

Even the most bitter enemies of Governor Chamberlain 
recognized him as a man of ability. He was a man of re- 
finement and brilliant education. One great reason for the 
intense dislike shown toward him was that, when one of his 
children died in Columbia, he called in a negro preacher 
to perform the burial services. But I have heard that 
Chamberlain said his reason for this was that at such a 
time he did not care to subject himself to the chance of 
a rebuff from any of the white ministers. Governor 
Chamberlain soon found himself between two fires — the 
enmity of the white natives on one side, and the bitter 
hatred of the carpetbaggers, who had discovered that they 
could not control him, on the other. 



CHAPTER XLII 

Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and Courier," denounces 
Bowen as the assassin of Colonel White — Bowen brings libel suit — Eli 
Grimes, the actual murderer, located — I go to Leesville and bring Grimes to 
Charleston to testify — Grimes attempts to kill himself — Grimes's sensational 
testimony — Mistrial. 

The fortune of the beautiful and accomplished Mrs. 
King, who had saved Mr. Trenholm's gold for him while he 
occupied the felon's cell in Charleston jail so recently va- 
cated by Captain Bowen, had suffered like those of the rest 
of the people of Charleston, and it was necessary for her to 
obtain employment, which she easily found in the United 
States Treasury. Clerks, if they know what is good for 
them, don't rebuff Congressmen. It was Mrs. King's mis- 
fortune to meet Bowen, then a full-fledged Congressman. 
To escape her unaccustomed drudgery she married this 
fellow, and in less than a year a previous wife turned up 
and had Bowen indicted, tried, and convicted on a charge 
of bigamy. He was sent to the penitentiary, but only re- 
mained there for a short time, as he had a strong political 
pull. He was pardoned and returned to Charleston where 
he was immediately elected sheriff of the county. 

Captain Dawson, editor of the "Charleston News and 
Courier," who, figuratively speaking, could attach the sting 
of a hornet to the nib of his pen and write with it, merci- 
lessly attacked Bowen in the columns of his paper. Bowen, 
having no character to lose, for a time ignored the editor, 
but when Dawson boldly charged him with the murder of 
Colonel White during the latter part of the war, even the 
carpetbaggers insisted that the sheriff should take some 
action against him. He sued Dawson for libel, claiming 
damages in the sum of one hundred thousand dollars. 

The facts of the case as charged by Dawson were that 
Colonel White had put Bowen under arrest for some breach 



354 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

of discipline and had thereby earned the latter's enmity; 
that Bowen had a private soldier in his company who had 
committed a murder, of which crime Bowen alone was 
cognizant, and naturally had Eli Grimes, the private, in 
his power. He commanded Grimes to kill Colonel White. 
Grimes demurred, and Bowen threatened to inform the 
civil authorities in Lee County, southwestern Georgia, 
where the crime had been committed. Frightened, Grimes 
agreed to do as his tormentor wished. On his first attempt 
to assassinate his colonel he hid in a "turkey blind" situ- 
ated on a path which Colonel White used twice a day, but 
the murderer's heart failed him and he let his intended vic- 
tim pass without firing. He made the excuse to Bowen that 
the spring of the lock of his gun was out of order. Bowen 
then gave him a new carbine and warned him that if Col- 
onel White was alive the next morning he would inform him 
of the murder Grimes had committed in Georgia. At about 
ten o'clock in the night Colonel White was reading by a 
small lamp in a room of the weatherboarded shanty which 
he occupied, and Grimes, having located his position by the 
light, sneaked up to the side of the house and fired through 
the thin weatherboarding, killing White instantly. Grimes 
escaped into the swamp, but was soon surrounded and cap- 
tured. Grimes at once implicated Bowen in the crime, and 
both of them were arrested and put on a train for Charleston 
where they were to be tried, but Grimes, although he was 
in irons, eluded the vigilance of his guard and jumped out 
of a window of the slow-moving train while it was on the 
trestle, some ten miles long, which spans the Santee Swamp. 
It was supposed that he had been drowned or that the 
alligators which infest the swamp had made a meal of him. 
Bowen was safely landed in the Charleston jail, where he 
was when the Union troops took possession of the city and 
opened the prison doors. 

Bowen brought his libel suit in 1875, eleven years after the 
murder had been committed. Colonel White's command 



Colonel Dawson and Sheriff Bowen 355 

had scattered, so Dawson had no witnesses by whom he 
could prove his charge. The loss of one hundred thousand 
dollars, or any large part of such a sum, meant financial 
ruin to him, and the fact that the case would be tried before 
a carpetbag judge and a jury composed mostly of negroes, 
the panel for which would be chosen by Bowen's henchmen, 
was not reassuring. While in this dilemma Dawson received 
a letter postmarked Louisville, Kentucky, from a woman, 
who stated in it that ''she was Bowen's legal wife and that 
she wanted to get even with him." She also asserted that 
Eli Grimes was not dead, and that he had as great a de- 
sire to get even with Bowen as she had, and that if Captain 
Dawson would go to Lee County, Georgia, he would find the 
man. She advised Dawson to be very careful, as Grimes was 
a desperate and dangerous fellow; that she was from Lee 
County herself and knew what she was talking about. 

This Mrs. Bowen was the same woman who, under the 
alias of Mrs. House, became a celebrated criminal and 
landed in the New Jersey penitentiary for the crime or 
crimes of having put out of the world several husbands by 
poisoning them. 

Captain Dawson went to Leesvllle, Georgia, a county 
seat, saw Grimes, and persuaded him to allow himself to 
be locked up until it was time for him to testify against 
Bowen. It was deemed advisable to keep secret the fact 
that Grimes was alive until he could be produced at the 
trial. When that time arrived, I volunteered to go after 
Grimes. Dawson went with me to Columbia, South Caro- 
lina, and explained the case to Governor Chamberlain, who 
gladly embraced the opportunity to punish his arch-enemy, 
Bowen. He secretly made out extradition papers and ap- 
pointed me a state constable to bring back Eli Grimes, 
charged with murder. The Governor of Georgia, a Demo- 
crat, was delighted to honor the requisition. 

I proceeded to Leesvllle and was much disappointed to 
find that Eli had tired of the monotony of the jail and had 



356 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

left. The sheriff, to whom I carried a letter from the gover- 
nor, informed me that he did not care to be mixed up in the 
case; that Grimes belonged to a large clan of poor whites, 
and that they were a dangerous lot. He also advised that I 
take a train bound north, which was shortly due, as it would 
be better for my health to get away before the Grimes 
family learned what I had come for. The only compromise 
I could effect was that he would show me where Grimes lived 
in the suburbs. He also agreed to lock Grimes up if I 
brought him to the jail with my warrant. I waited until 
an hour before day, and then, armed with a revolver and a 
pair of handcuffs, I went to Eli's house and knocked at the 
door which, after a short wait, was opened a hand's breadth. 
Seeing that it was not going to be opened any wider, I 
exclaimed, "In the name of the law I arrest you!" — and 
throwing my full weight against the obstruction I burst 
into the room and instantly found myself grappling with 
my prisoner. We struggled all over the room while a woman 
in scant night attire leaned over the banister above us shriek- 
ing at the top of her voice. Suddenly the banister gave way 
and the woman tumbled down, landing on our heads, 
knocking both of us to the floor. I fell on top of Grimes, and 
the almost nude woman, now insensible, lay alongside of us. 
I quickly put the handcuffs on Grimes and ordered him to 
stand up and precede me to the door, emphasizing my 
command by the display of my pistol. Grimes demurred 
because he had on only his underclothes. Not knowing 
that his wife was in a faint, he commanded her to get his 
gun, and as she did not move he cursed her in a most 
shocking way. I forced him out of the house, and on the 
way to the jail promised him that not a hair of his head 
should come to harm, and told him that Captain Dawson 
had the promise of the governor that even if there was a 
trial and conviction, he would pardon him for the crime 
committed more than ten years before. 

When I got Grimes in his cell I left him in the care of 



An Unwilling Witness 357 

the one-legged keeper, who was himself a prisoner, but a 
"trusty," and went to the sheriff's house, where I was in- 
vited to have breakfast. I had hardly eaten a mouthful 
when the one-legged "trusty," with only one crutch, 
bounded into the room exclaiming, "Eli Grimes is dead!" 
We leaped to our feet and rushed to the prison, and when 
the cell door was opened we beheld a gruesome sight. Eli's 
body lay on the floor and his mangled head and face were 
covered with blood. The village doctor was summoned and 
much to my relief pronounced the man to be still alive. He 
bathed and bandaged his damaged head, and in an hour 
Grimes, apparently, was himself again. The "trusty" told 
the sheriff that after I had left the jail Grimes swore I 
should never take him to South Carolina alive, and that he, 
the "trusty," had paid no attention to what he said, but 
went to another part of the building to attend to his duties, 
when suddenly he heard some awful thuds, and going to 
Grimes's cell found that worthy engaged in running the 
length of his narrow quarters and with all his force striking 
his head against the steel with which the walls were lined. 

The Grimes family soon assembled and made threats, 
but I persuaded them that no harm should befall Eli. The 
doctor advised me to take him away on the first train, as, 
he said, unless I took him away before dark, his friends 
would rescue him. 

When I arrived at Macon I found I had a very ill man on 
my hands, and I had to ask the hospitality of the local jail. 
Oh, the days I spent in jail with that raving criminal, who 
was "out of his head" from the effects of a raging fever. 
Had I been that wretch's mother I could not have nursed 
him more tenderly. 

When Grimes was able to travel I took him to Augusta, 
Georgia, to await further instructions, and of course had 
to occupy the same cell with him as a precaution against 
his again trying to commit suicide. A dead Grimes would 
have been of no use to Captain Dawson. 



358 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

We were taken to Charleston on a special train and on 
arriving there I dressed Grimes in a suit of my own clothes 
and had him shaved and his hair cut. We then wandered 
around the city until it was time for him to appear in court, 
where we took our seats among the crowded spectators. 
The trial proceeded in a desultory manner until one of 
Dawson's counsel asked that Eli Grimes should be called. 
Bowen and his lawyers burst into such loud laughter at this 
that the judge rapped for order. The court crier went to the 
door and perfunctorily called "Eli Grimes!" I took that 
individual by the arm and steered him through the throng 
of spectators until I landed him safely in the witness box. 
Grimes was sworn, but so certain was Bowen that the man 
was dead that he and his friends had paid no attention to 
what was going on until Grimes, when asked his name, in 
a loud voice answered, "Eli Grimes!" 

The appearance of the supposedly dead man must have 
shocked Bowen considerably, for he turned an ashen color, 
gasped, and appeared about to faint, but was revived with 
a glass of water. 

One of the first questions asked the witness was, "Who 
killed Colonel White?" Before answering, Grimes pointed 
his finger at Bowen and said, "If you will make that man 
look me in the eyes I will tell you." But Bowen did not 
accept the challenge. Grimes said, " I knew he did n't dare 
do it." And then in a most impressive manner he turned 
to the court and said, "Judge, I pulled the trigger, but there 
[pointing to Bowen] is the man who killed Colonel White." 
He then went on to tell of his acquaintance with Bowen, who 
at home was a professional gambler, and how he in a fracas 
had killed (in a most cowardly manner) a neighbor during a 
quarrel about a hog. It was in a lonely spot in the woods 
and he buried his victim so well that he felt sure his crime 
would never be known, but when he looked around he saw 
Bowen, who was squirrel hunting. 

It was early in the war and Bowen, who was raising a 



The End of a Libel Suit 359 

volunteer company, asked him to enlist, but that he had 
replied that it was a rich man's war and as he, Grimes, did 
not own any "niggers," he did not see why he should be 
expected to fight for them. Whereupon Bowen quietly 
informed him that if he did not enlist at once, he, Bowen, 
would inform the authorities where they could find the body 
of the dead man, and also the man who killed him, and 
intimated that there would be a hanging soon. Badly 
frightened, Grimes enlisted. When their regiment was on 
North Island, South Carolina, Bowen had some trouble with 
his colonel and proposed that Grimes should kill him, but 
Grimes demurred ; saying that he had nothing against that 
officer. But Bowen again threatened him and frightened him 
into doing it. 

When Grimes had finished his testimony, Bowen fairly 
shrieked to his deputies to "Arrest that man!" But I 
showed my instructions from the governor to bring Grimes 
to Columbia and the judge ordered that I should be al- 
lowed to proceed. 

The case resulted in a mistrial, and that was much better 
than Captain Dawson had expected. As Grimes had come 
back to life, Bowen never dared to demand a retrial, and 
Dawson resumed his pen- lashings. 



CHAPTER XLIII 

Exciting political campaign of 1875 — I return to Columbia — The dual 
legislature — Hamilton, negro member of the legislature, makes a Democratic 
speech — The military evict the Democrats from the Capitol. 

The political campaign of 1875 was probably the most ex- 
citing one that this or any other country ever went through, 
and it was a red-hot one in South Carolina as the native- 
born population of that State had determined, cost what it 
would, to overthrow the carpetbag and negro government 
and free themselves from a tyranny that was no longer bear- 
able. None but a desperate people would have dreamed 
that it could be done, as the negroes not only greatly out- 
numbered the whites, but, not satisfied with their great 
normal majority, on election days, permitted many darky 
boys, ranging between the ages of seventeen and twenty, 
to vote, as no one could swear positively to a negro's age. 
Black women were also allowed to vote by the election of- 
ficials, who were, of course, appointed by the carpetbaggers, 
and it took an expert to detect the sex of a flat-chested negro 
woman of over forty years of age when she was dressed in 
men's clothes. I remember one instance a negro man, chal- 
lenged at the polls, with tears in his eyes acknowledging that 
he had voted at the other precincts, but protested that he 
had not before voted at that particular polling-booth ! 

Besides the great majority that was to be overcome it 
was necessary to avoid any conflict with the United States 
Government or its troops. General Wade Hampton, Gen- 
eral M. C. Butler, General Gary, and Captain Dawson were 
the acknowledged leaders of the forlorn hope, and rifle clubs 
were formed all over the State. These clubs were called by 
the carpetbaggers "Redshirts," as for economical reasons 
they wore red flannel shirts instead of more costly uniforms. 
The carpetbaggers tried to give the National Government 



The Political Campaign of 1875 361 

the impression that these clubs were simply made up of ban- 
dits when the truth was that they were composed mostly 
of veterans of the Civil War, men who belonged to the best 
families in the State. 

For the first time a great and united effort was made by 
the native whites to influence the colored vote. Heretofore 
the blacks had to a man voted the Republican ticket, and 
now, although they spoke with the greatest contempt of the 
carpetbaggers, they could not be induced to vote against 
them on election day. Many amusing stories were told at 
the expense of those who endeavored to convert Sambo and 
induce him to embrace Democratic doctrines. One of them 
was that General Hampton had met one of his former slaves 
and asked him what he had in a basket which the fellow was 
carrying on his arm. The man said he had some puppies in 
it. The general, who was an ardent sportsman, asked what 
kind of puppies they were, and the darky, removing the 
cover, disclosed three or four newly born pups, at the same 
time saying, "Dey is good Democratic pups, suh."A month 
later the general met the same negro with the same basket 
and again asked him what was in it, and again the man re- 
plied, "Pups, suh." "What kind of puppies have you to- 
day," laughingly inquired the general; and the darky re 
plied "Good Republican pups, suh," — and uncovered his 
basket. The general, who never forgot a horse or a dog, 
said, "Why, Sam, you rascal, those are the same puppies you 
showed me a month ago and told me that they were good 
Democratic puppies!" "Yes, Mas* Wade," replied the 
darky ; " but don't you see dey done got der eyes open now ! " 

Of course all efforts to wean the negroes from the Re- 
publican Party were futile, but the whites had great hopes 
that the dissensions among the carpetbaggers would disrupt 
their party. They soon learned that in those days the Re- 
publican Party did not divide on election day. 

Wherever in the State the carpetbaggers held a political 
meeting, there would assemble the whites and insist on a 



362 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

division of time with their orators. It was embarrassing to 
the aliens. 

Captain Dawson asked me to go to Columbia, as he 
thought I could be of service to the cause in Richland Dis- 
trict, as the county was called at that time. Shortly after 
my arrival in the capital we heard that the Republicans 
were to hold a great mass meeting in Edgefield District, the 
home of General M. C. Butler. The word was passed to the 
members of the rifle clubs, and those within reach, as usual, 
attended the meeting. A platform had been erected in a 
grove of trees, and seated on it were Governor Chamber- 
lain and a number of his most prominent black and white 
lieutenants. The speaker's stand was surrounded by a 
dense mass of blacks through which we forced our horses, 
and as many of us as could find room took up our positions 
as near the stand as possible. 

General Butler, against the protests of the carpetbaggers, 
forced his way on to the stand, accompanied by several 
others. General Butler was an extraordinarily handsome 
man — tall and graceful, and possessed of the manners of a 
Chesterfield. His courtesy and winning smile made friends 
of all who came in contact with him. At one of the battles 
in Virginia a shell had struck his horse in the breast and ex- 
ploded inside of the animal, shattering the general's leg so 
badly that it had to be amputated below the knee ; but so 
well did he manage his artificial limb that for several years 
after the war was over he used to dance at balls, and it was 
difficult to convince strangers that he was a one-legged man. 
In the hour of danger he was one of the coolest men I ever 
saw, and he feared neither man nor devil. But with all of his 
beautiful manners, when he wanted to, he could be the most 
cold-blooded, insolent human being that mortal eyes ever 
beheld. Without saying so much as "by your leave" to 
the assembled carpetbaggers, Butler began to harangue the 
crowd, denouncing the Republican leaders who were pres- 
ent. While he was tongue-lashing Chamberlain, he stood 



The Political Campaign of 1875 363 

over him shaking his finger almost in his face. Chamberlain, 
who was a bald-headed man, was seated with one elbow rest- 
ing on the arm of his chair and his forefinger was moving 
nervously back and forth in the rim of hair below his bald 
spot and just above his ear. Suddenly, during one of the 
pauses in General Butler's speech, a voice in the audience 
rang out with " Run him out in the clearing, Governor, and 
I will shoot him for you!" Looking in the direction from 
whence the interruption came, I saw a " redshirt," mounted 
on his horse, not ten feet from the governor, with a Colt's 
revolver aimed at the head of the chief magistrate of the 
State. But at a word from Butler he lowered his weapon and 
kept quiet during the rest of the speaking. 

The negroes, naturally afraid of their former masters, be- 
came somewhat terrorized, and when the redshlrts ap- 
peared at their meetings the more timid among them would 
quietly sneak away. Of course there were clashes in various 
parts of the State, but the blacks had becorne so nervous 
that the white carpetbaggers could not induce them to 
stand their ground, and the meetings soon took on a decided 
Democratic hue. The few Republican speeches made be- 
came very conservative, and the eyes of the speakers, while 
they were delivering them, looked as wild as those of a cor- 
nered jack-rabbit looking for some means of escape. 

Some extraordinary incidents occurred. The night before 
the election a barbecue was held on a plantation, which was 
a polling precinct where several hundred negroes and pos- 
sibly half a dozen whites voted, and the next day it was car- 
ried by an enormous Democratic majority. The negroes 
always voted the straight Republican ticket, and the whites, 
of course, voted the Democratic; and it seemed a strange 
reversal of form only to be accounted for by the fact that 
some old veterans knew where two Confederate brass 
field-pieces had been buried to keep them from falling into 
General Sherman's hands. These cannon had been disin- 
terred, and manned as a section of artillery, they had been 



364 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

brought to the barbecue. In the small hours of the night a 
drill had been ordered, and several shells had burst in the 
air, with the result that when the polls were opened in the 
morning no negroes were around there to vote. 

I do not suppose that any one claimed that the famous 
election of November, 1875, was a fair one. Where the 
negroes were in such a majority that they could manage 
things in their own way, negro women and boys under age 
voted with impunity and repeated as often as they felt dis- 
posed. On the other hand, the whites in some places played 
practical jokes which were highly successful in their results. 
At one precinct in the country, where it was considered im- 
possible to overcome the great black majority, two young 
white men did the trick quite successfully. They had posted 
themselves in front of the voting-booth as challengers of 
illegal voters — they were brothers-in-law and devoted 
friends. While the voting was going on, to the amazement of 
the onlookers, they became involved in a quarrel in which 
one of them called the other a liar. Instantly they both drew 
their weapons and began to shoot. It was afterwards dis- 
covered that most of their bullets landed in the polling- 
booth. The negro judges of the election fled, but the sole 
Democratic official, who usually, at elections, could get no 
one to listen to his protests, was left alone in charge of the 
ballot boxes and took them safely to the capital, where, 
when opened, their contents fairly staggered the Republi- 
can officials so great was the Democratic majority in this 
usually overwhelming Republican precinct. 

The carpetbag officials, of course, counted the Demo- 
crats out — and the native whites swore a mighty oath that 
no longer would they submit to carpetbagger and negro 
domination. They proclaimed General Hampton and the 
Democratic candidates for the legislature as elected, and 
the rifle clubs began to gather in the vicinity of the capital. 

Two legislatures assembled in Columbia. The carpetbag- 
gers and negroes had possession of the State House, and the 



The Dual Legislature 365 

Democratic body met In the local court-house — each claim- 
ing to be the legal lawmakers for the State. 

One night some twenty or thirty young men, myself 
among the number, although none of us were members of 
the legislature, quietly entered the State House, and dis- 
tributing ourselves at points of vantage and the exits, we 
allowed no one to leave the building. There were quite a 
number of young negroes — "Tacheeses " (attaches) as they 
called themselves — in the building, but none of the higher of- 
ficials were there. As there were no telephones in those days, 
and as we would not let anybody leave, there was no way for 
them to get word to their friends that we were in possession. 
Everything with us seemed to be plain sailing, and expect- 
ing to be complimented on our enterprise we sent word to 
General Hampton that we had the State House and would 
hold it until the Democratic legislature assembled therein. 
But our leaders wanted above everything to avoid a clash 
with the United States Government, and knowing that the 
United States troops would be called upon to eject us, 
General Hampton sent back word for us to withdraw from 
the capitol at once — which we did. 

I think that it was two days after the foregoing episode 
that the Democratic legislators met at the court-house and 
decided to go to the capitol and take their seats, as by right, 
in the legislative halls. Led by General Wallace, their 
speaker, they marched to the State House followed by a 
number of men bent upon assisting them if they met with 
any opposition. Arriving at the State House they thrust 
aside the sergeants-at-arms and doorkeepers, and took their 
seats in their respective halls. It was before the usual hour 
for the Republican legislature to meet, and the chambers 
were empty, with the exception of a few negro employees. 
I entered the House of Representatives with the members 
of that body. General Wallace took the speaker's chair and 
called the House to order, and was proceeding with the 
business of the day, when the Republican members arrived 



366 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

in a great state of excitement, palpably chagrined at finding 
themselves outwitted. The Democrats had occupied all the 
seats on the right of the speaker, and only the vacant chairs 
on his left were empty, so our former masters had to be con- 
tent with those. Mackey, the speaker of the Republican 
House, had an ordinary chair brought and placed along- 
side of the regular speaker's seat now occupied by General 
Wallace. Neither speaker recognized the other, nor did they 
interchange a single word during the whole time the dual 
legislature was in session. Whenever a Democratic member 
arose to address the House, a carpetbagger or negro would 
also get on his feet. General Wallace would recognize the 
Democrat, and Mackey would do the same for the Repub- 
lican, and then both members would begin to speak at 
once, each pretending to be absolutely oblivious of the 
other's presence. But now and then curiosity would get 
the better of the Republicans and their spokesman would 
stop to listen to what the other orator was saying, and as 
the other orator was engaged in a denunciation of their ras- 
calities, it could not have afforded them much satisfaction. 

At times it looked as though it would be impossible to 
avoid a hostile collision between the two bodies despite the 
fact that the carpetbaggers were frightened, knowing, as 
they did, that the first shot would be the signal for their an- 
nihilation. They had become desperate, and the scathing 
denunciations which they had to listen to penetrated through 
even their dulled sensibilities. 

No one, singly, dared to leave the chamber for fear they 
would be unable to return, but the citizens generously 
smuggled in baskets of food for their representatives, so 
they did not suffer from hunger. 

Hour after hour passed, during which many exciting scenes 
took place; — night came, the hall was lighted, and still 
the pandemonium reigned. About ten o'clock, Hamilton, a 
black and very intelligent negro member who had accumu- 
lated quite a handsome fortune as a planter of cotton, and 



A Stormy Session 367 

who had the reputation of being the most honest politician 
among that nefarious gang, came to me and said, if I would 
stand by him, that he would make a speech and expose the 
rascalities of the carpetbaggers. Of course, before commit- 
ting myself I consulted some of the leaders, who approved, 
and Speaker Wallace was informed as to what was about to 
take place. I was surprised to find, on inquiry, that Hamil- 
ton was not armed, and taking him out into a committee 
room I gave him my revolver. I followed him back into 
the chamber and stood behind his chair. Hamilton at last 
caught the eye of Speaker Mackey and to the amazement of 
the Republicans and most of the Democrats also, Speaker 
Wallace, in a loud voice, also recognized the Republican 
member. 

Hamilton was in earnest — he was tired of the uncertain- 
ties of life and property in which he lived. He also had the 
foresight to see that the end of carpetbag rule had come, and 
had determined to cast his lot with his former friends, the 
ex-slave-owners. He had a fine command of the English 
language, having traveled considerably with his master as 
a valet when a slave. He not only named the crimes which 
had been committed against the people of the State, but 
also named the time, place, and the men who had per- 
petrated them. This was too much for the carpetbag and 
negro members; they raged and stormed at first, and 
finally, urged on by the carpetbaggers, a dozen or more 
negroes started for Hamilton, who drew his pistol and 
leveled it at them. I warned him not to shoot until some one 
touched him, and at that moment a friend of mine took up 
a position behind me, and knowing that I was not armed 
pushed a pistol into my hand. The negroes hesitated and 
stopped, and Hamilton, laying his revolver on his desk, 
remarked that he would kill the first man who laid a finger 
on him. By this time the chamber was in an uproar. The 
negroes and their white confreres were engaged in reviling 
Hamilton, while the Southerners were urging him to go on. 



368 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Hamilton proceeded with his speech, and never did I hear, 
even from the mouth of General M. C. Butler, such a scath- 
ing denunciation of the carpetbaggers. 

When Hamilton had finished his remarks to the House, 
he turned to me and said that "now his life was not worth 
the price of a puff of smoke," as the negroes would surely 
kill him before he could get out of the city. I reassured him 
by telling him that I was going to stay by him until he was 
out of danger. 

We left the House of Representatives together and were 
not followed. I took Hamilton to the home of Mr. Douglas 
De Saussure, a prominent lawyer, and he was kept there 
until he could catch a train bound for his home. 

Returning to the House of Representatives I found my 
way barred by General Dennis, the carpetbagger who had 
robbed me of my hay crop and mill dam, and half a dozen 
so-called "Tacheeses." I roughly pushed Dennis aside and 
walking through the gang of young negroes entered the 
chamber. It was now after midnight and the House was in 
as great disorder as when I had left it. A number of negro 
members were gathered together near the speaker's desk, 
and there was some anxiety expressed for the safety of Gen- 
eral Wallace. One of our leaders asked me to take up a 
position behind the chair of General Wallace. To this 
Speaker Mackey objected, but on my informing him very 
impolitely that there was no one man enough to remove me, 
he paid no more attention to me. 

Urged on by the carpetbaggers, the negroes made a 
demonstration as though they wanted to remove Speaker 
Wallace from the chair by force, but they changed their 
minds when they saw how quickly the whites rushed in be- 
tween them and the speaker. They wavered for a moment 
and then returned to their seats. 

By three o'clock in the morning the speaking had ceased 
and every one seemed weary of the excitement. There was 
absolute silence for a little while, and then the whites were 



The "Wallace House" Evicted 369 

aroused by a burst of melody which came from the throats 
of the plantation darkies who had, in such a marvelous 
manner, been transformed into statesmen. 

With the morning came the military, who had received 
orders from Washington to evict from the State House the 
so-called "Wallace House." The Democrats after a protest 
marched out of the building in the same order that they had 
marched into it. 

As a matter of personal interest I might add that my 
daughter Helen afterwards married the only son of General 
Wallace. 



CHAPTER XLIV 

General M. C. Butler elected U.S. Senator by Democratic legislature — 
Carpetbag conspiracy against Butler proves a fiasco — Don Cameron, to the 
amazement of the country, forces the seating of Butler in the U.S. Senate — 
Senator Blaine traps Senator Vance who was fond of practical jokes — Aston- 
ishing clash between Senators Bayard and Blaine — Visit of a Senate Com- 
mittee to the Indian Territory — Attempt to give a scolding to Chief Joseph, 
of the Nez Perces Indians, and the result — The mountain would not 
come to Mohammed, so Mohammed had to go to the mountain — Joseph 
turns the tables on the Senators and administers a stinging tongue-lashing 
— We leave Joseph, but do not feel very proud of ourselves. 

Political events both national and state in 1875-76 were 
full of thrills. Hayes and Tilden each claimed to have been 
elected to the Presidency, and Chamberlain and Hampton 
each claimed to have been legally elected as Governor of 
South Carolina. Tilden was counted out and Hampton was 
counted in. How the electoral vote of South Carolina could 
have been given to Hayes, and Hampton at the same time 
declared to have been elected governor, is, as the late 
Lord Dundreary would have said, "One of those things no 
fellow could understand," as, while negro women and boys 
under age may have voted, and there might have been sev- 
eral tissue ballots found in the boxes, still, it was a well- 
known fact that neither whites nor blacks ever voted a split 
ticket in South Carolina. 

South Carolina was in deadly earnest in her determina- 
tion never again to submit to carpetbagger and negro rule. 
The authorities in Washington realized that the criminal 
orgy, miscalled government, of these wretches had come to 
an end, and that the only result of keeping them in power 
by the use of bayonets would be to cause the slaughter of 
numbers of ignorant, misled negroes. 

Having nothing to do I accepted several invitations from 
Northern friends (strange to say they were all Republicans 
in politics) and went with one of them on a yachting cruise 



^^^ iX^ 



Butler's Election to the Senate 371 

along the New England coast, stopping at Bath, Maine, 
among other ports, where my host begged me not to let it be 
known that I had once been a pirate and had participated 
in the capture of several vessels belonging to that once pros- 
perous shipowning town. 

After the yachting cruise I paid a number of visits to 
friends and was having a delightful time at the beautiful 
country seat of General E. Burd Grubb, near Burlington, 
New Jersey, when I received a letter telling me that a trust 
estate, my last and sole source of income, had forever disap- 
peared. By my authority my trustee had lent the money, 
for which he was seeking an investment, to a friend of mine 
who was in business. Knowing our personal relations, the 
trustee let him have the money on his assurance that he 
would at once send back the collateral securities, but my 
friend failed before he did so. On learning of my total finan- 
cial ruin I at once went to Washington to the house of my 
brother-in-law, General R. C. Drum, adjutant-general of 
the United States Army at that time, and I was still there 
when the United States Senate met to hold probably the 
most exciting session in its history. 

The Democratic legislature had kept up its organization 
despite the fact that the military would not allow them 
to enter the State House, and they had elected General 
M. C. Butler, a nephew of Commodore Perry, to the United 
States Senate. Corbin, a carpetbagger, was elected to the 
same seat by the Republican legislature. As the United 
States Senate at the time was Republican by a majority of 
one, Butler's election was generally regarded, by everybody 
except Butler, as an empty compliment. 

The carpetbaggers had fled from the South and were 
gathered in great numbers in Washington, posing in the 
role of political "lame ducks" and demanding that the 
Republican Administration should take care of them. 

The Senate was Republican by a majority of one, and no 
one, with the exception of General Butler, dreamed that it 



372 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

would be possible for him to obtain the seat under the cir- 
cumstances. But the carpetbaggers were not satisfied with 
this apparent certainty. They wanted revenge, and to ob- 
tain it they formed a conspiracy for the purpose of so be- 
smirching Butler that he would never be able to appear in 
national politics again. 

One day General Butler sent for me and told me of the 
conspiracy and how one of the carpetbaggers had gone on a 
spree and let the cat out of the bag, by mistake, to a North- 
ern Democrat under the impression that he was a carpet- 
bagger from some other State than South Carolina. The 
simple scheme was to have a woman of the demi-monde 
visit the general's apartment at an hour when it was known 
that he was usually alone, and the conspirators were to fol- 
low her into the rooms. It was a plan that required more 
courage than I had ever given the carpetbaggers the credit 
of possessing. The general requested me to remain with him 
until the denouement. 

As the probable time for the visit approached, General 
Butler went into his bedroom and I remained in the sitting- 
room. The apartment was situated on the ground floor in a 
house on "F" Street, between Thirteenth and Fourteenth 
Streets. His rooms were separated by folding doors. We had 
not long to wait before a heavily veiled woman, without 
asking for General Butler, or knocking at the sitting-room 
door, boldly entered and seemed considerably excited when 
she discovered me alone in the room. Before I could ask her 
business she demanded to know where General Butler was. 
I frankly told her that the general knew all about the con- 
spiracy, and that if she would take a seat she would prob- 
ably see some fun when her friends arrived. The woman be- 
came greatly agitated and started for the front door, but I 
had no idea of letting her meet the conspirators, and sug- 
gested to her that in going out that way she might fall into 
the hands of the police, and that as I did not want a scandal 
I would gladly show her out the back way where she could 



Conspiracy against Butler 373 

escape into an alleyway and from thence to a side street. 
She accepted my offer with enthusiasm and made a hasty 
exit. 

When I returned to the apartment General Butler and I 
changed places and he seated himself in the parlor while I 
went into the bedroom and closed the doors. The cicatrix of 
the stump of the General's amputated leg had been paining 
him and he was using his crutches that day. We had not 
long to wait. The door leading to the street and the one 
between the hall and his sitting-room had been left pur- 
posely ajar, and a few moments after the departure of the 
mysterious lady five carpetbaggers burst unceremoniously 
into the room. General Butler arose and demanded to know 
what they meant by the intrusion, but they were all so 
hilarious that they took no notice of his indignation, and 
two of them suddenly threw open the doors of the bedroom 
and to their surprise did not find the lady, but beheld me 
reclining on a couch. I leaped to my feet and seizing a 
chair for a weapon began to brandish it, at the same time, 
I fear, using some very violent language. General Butler 
was hopping about on one crutch while making most men- 
acing flourishes in the air with the other. The general was 
the possessor of a most highly sulphurated vocabulary when 
his angry passions were aroused, and he was using it with 
unstinted prodigality. The scoundrels did not stand on 
the order of their going, but struggled among themselves 
for the honor of being first to reach the street — and thus 
ended the adventure with the veiled lady. 

I was in the gallery of the Senate when the contested seat 
in that body between Corbin, the carpetbagger, and Butler, 
the Confederate brigadier, came up for decision. It was a 
very exciting session. Conkling and Blaine for once were 
in accord, and they were merciless in their denunciations 
of Butler. Butler, of course, could not talk back, as he was 
not yet a Senator. Conkling described the Chesterfieldian 
Butler as a "swashbuckler," and Blaine accused him of 



374 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

being "a murderer whose hands were dripping with the 
blood of innocent negroes massacred at Hamburg." I was 
surprised at Butler's seeming indifference to the attack until 
he afterwards told me that he was not at Hamburg when the 
shooting took place, but that he was near there — in fact, his 
home was not twenty miles away from the scene. The truth 
of the matter was that, urged on by their white leaders, the 
negroes in Hamburg had started a riot, and an Edgefield 
rifle club had hastily assembled and suppressed them, and 
in the process had killed a few of the most violent. It was 
singular that no carpetbaggers were ever killed in those 
collisions. 

When the vote as to whether Butler or Corbin should be 
declared the duly elected Senator from South Carolina was 
taken, no one seemed particularly interested, as it was taken 
for granted that the Republican majority of one would seat 
Corbin, but great was the amazement when Don Cameron, 
the autocrat of the Pennsylvania Republican machine, an- 
nounced that he voted for Butler. The excitement caused 
by this vote was nothing, however, in comparison to the 
pandemonium which reigned in that dignified body when 
Patterson, the carpetbag Senator from South Carolina, a 
man I had frequently heard Butler denounce at public 
meetings as everything that was dishonest and despicable, 
followed the lead of Cameron and voted also to seat But- 
ler! Patterson was a Pennsylvanian, and a henchman of 
the Camerons. The carpetbag days in South Carolina were 
over forever, and he well knew that ruin stared him in the 
face at home if he dared vote contrary to the wishes of 
Cameron. 

Butler was seated and given the chairmanship of the 
Civil Service Committee, a sinecure, as that committee had 
nothing to do in those days, and was one of the least impor- 
tant committees, whose chairmanship was usually given to 
a member of the minority. His only patronage was the 
appointment of a messenger at a salary of fifteen hundred 



Memorable Senatorial Clashes 375 

dollars a year, and this position he gave to me — and I 
surely did need the money at that time. 

I was in the Senate Chamber on that memorable night 
when Senators Conkling and Lamar had their famous clash, 
and on another occasion I was a witness of that extraordi- 
nary sight when Senator Blaine, like a caged lion, walked 
back and forth in front of the Democratic desks behind 
which were seated a number of ex-Confederate brigadiers. 
He would stop first in front of one of them and denounce 
his political methods, and then pass on to the next, but al- 
ways skipped Senator Bayard, of Delaware, who was seated 
alongside of the one-legged General Hampton, and also 
ignored Senator Voorhees, of Indiana. At the end of the 
row was seated Senator Zebulon B. Vance, of North Caro- 
lina, an inveterate joker. When Blaine would reach Vance's 
seat he would look at him for a moment and then give a 
little start as though very much surprised, then retrace his 
steps and take up a position in front of some other Demo- 
cratic Senator on whom he would pour out his wrath. This 
performance, repeated several times, made, as I have no 
doubt it was intended to make. Bayard, Voorhees, and Vance 
conspicuous because he excepted them from his general 
denunciations so freely lavished on their Democratic con- 
freres. First Bayard and then Voorhees asked permission to 
interrupt him, but curtly refusing the former's request, he 
told the latter that he would not give up the floor for an 
instant to a man who in the Civil War had been neither 
"fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring." Vance seemingly 
flushed with anger at being excepted from the attacks, with- 
out asking permission to interrupt challenged Blaine "to 
show that he had ever made a disloyal remark since the sur- 
render at Appomattox." Blaine called the attention of the 
presiding officer and the Senate to the fact that he had care- 
fully avoided making any attack on the Senator from North 
Carolina, but added that he usually had on his desk some 
ammunition, useful in such contingencies, and he strode to 



376 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

it pretending that he was looking for something important 
among the mass of documents strewed thereon. Seemingly 
failing in his search, he gave a sigh. The Democratic side of 
the chamber laughed with glee at his supposed discomfiture, 
but when the merriment ceased Mr. Blaine said that he 
sometimes had something under his desk, and stooping down 
he produced a schoolbook of orations published for the use of 
the public schools of North Carolina. This book he told the 
Senate was issued to the schools when Zebulon B. Vance was 
governor and also, ex-officio, a member of the public school 
board, and this was the kind of oratory and loyalty being 
taught the youth of the State. He then opened the book at 
a marked page and read a selection from one of Vance's 
orations which proved to be a red-hot "secesh" speech, all 
about "when the South, like a phoenix, would arise from its 
ashes and cast out the Northern vandal," etc., etc. The 
Senate lost its dignity and indulged in roars of laughter in 
which Senator Vance hilariously joined. He saw the trap 
Mr. Blaine had set for him and appreciated the dexterity 
with which it had been sprung. 

After the merriment had somewhat subsided, Mr. Blaine 
stopped in front of Senator Bayard's desk. His hands were 
in his trousers pockets and his whole attitude, I must say, 
was offensive, and doubtless was meant to be so. General 
Wade Hampton occupied the next seat to Mr. Bayard and 
Mr. Blaine commenced to berate the general as though he 
was responsible for all the sins of the South since the com- 
mencement of the Civil War. General Hampton, in a most 
dignified manner, remained perfectly quiet during the verbal 
attack, but suddenly, without even asking the President 
pro tenCs permission to interrupt the speaker, Mr. Bayard 
exclaimed, while shaking his finger at Mr. Blaine, "You 
shall not stand in front of my desk in that insolent attitude 
with your hands in your pockets ! " Mr. Blaine glared at him 
for a moment and then said that he would stand in any place 
in the Senate Chamber that he chose, and he certainly 



Blaine and Bayard 377 

would keep his hands in his pockets as long as it pleased him 
to do so. Mr. Bayard lost his temper, and jumping to his feet 
exclaimed, "You may talk that way here, but at another 
time and place — " He got no farther, for Mr. Blaine fairly 
roared, "Stop!" And then in a lower tone of voice, while 
pointing to General Hampton, he said, "If that threat had 
come from that one-legged man, it might mean something, 
but from you — p'st!" he hissed, and at the same time 
snapped his fingers in a most offensive manner. 

When Mr. Blaine had finished his tirade against the 
"Confederate brigadiers," he took his seat. Mr. Bayard, 
showing great emotion, instantly arose, and addressing 
the presiding officer said that "if in the heat of debate 
he had said anything to offend the Senator from Maine he 
wished to withdraw the remark!" The Senators and the 
crowds in the galleries fairly gasped in astonishment, for 
surely, if an apology was in order, it was not due from 
Mr. Bayard. 

As I watched this unpleasant scene little did I dream that 
it was destined at a future day to give me what the French 
call a "mauvais quart d'heure" — but it did. 

The marvelous Hayes-Tilden-Hampton-Chamberlain de- 
cision had given South Carolina control of her own politi- 
cal affairs, but not the control of her judiciary, as carpetbag 
judges still presided over her courts, and the warfare between 
the carpetbaggers and the natives still continued before the 
courts. Corbin, the disappointed contestant for a seat in 
the United States Senate, was the United States district 
attorney, and naturally thirsted for revenge and sought to 
use the United States District Court to attain his ends. He 
hated Dawson, the editor of the "Charleston News and 
Courier," even more than he did Butler. Colonel Simonton, 
an ex-Confederate ofliicer, and a brilliant lawyer, was in- 
formed that Corbin was about to proceed against Dawson, 
and a number of other prominent Democrats, in the United 



378 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

States Court, charging them with instigating or participat- 
ing in violations of the United States laws governing presi- 
dential or national elections. On the other hand, United 
States Senator Patterson, the South Carolina carpetbagger, 
and Cardozo, a highly educated carpetbag negro who had 
been superintendent of public education, and many other 
ex-officials of the looted States, had been indicted before 
the state courts, and it was well known that the judges 
thereof were anxious to make their peace with the native 
whites. 

The following letter from Senator M. C. Butler will give 
an idea as to how things were managed in those days : — 

Edgefield, S.C, Sept. 12, 1879. 

Col. J. M. Morgan, 

Washington, D.C. 
Dear Morgan: — 

Colonel Simonton writes to-day that Corbin is in Charleston 
preparing to renew the election prosecutions in Charleston in 
November, in the United States Court, and suggests that the 
prosecutions in the State Courts be pressed at the next term of 
the Court in Columbia — third Monday in next month — before 
[Judge] Mackey. 

I would be obliged if you would see Patterson and Cardozo in 
person and say that you have this information from reliable 
sources, and that unless Corbin is stopped there will be no possible 
chance to control the prosecutions in Columbia. Chamberlain 
will be moved upon also, as the truce will be at an end. 

The repeal of "test oath" and amendment to the jury law will 
protect our people — but we do not want this question reopened, 
and it will not be, unless the Radicals make the first move. 

I am sorry that Dawson is not here, as Corbin will have espe- 
cial delight in annoying him, if he can. 

Mention no names in your conferences, and be good enough to 
let me hear from you. I will see Youmans next week. 

Very truly yours, 

M. C. Butler. 

I had a talk with Patterson and Cardozo, and there were 
no more prosecutions. 



Chief Joseph and a Senate Committee 379 

It must have been a mighty poor Senator who In those 
days could not (at the expense of the Government) get up, 
under the guise of an "investigation," a "junket" to some 
part of the country he wished to see during the summer 
vacations. 

It was my good fortune to accompany one of these luxuri- 
ous pleasure parties to the Indian Territory. The object of 
our jaunt was supposed to be for the purpose of looking into 
the condition of the Nez Percys Indians who were interned 
there and who were becoming restless. It was thought it 
would be well to give their chief, Joseph, a good scolding, 
and the result of their well-meant efforts was that Joseph 
gave the Senators a tongue-lashing the like of which United 
States Senators have rarely been subjected to. Joseph fairly 
excoriated them, and worse than that, he was in the right. 

Our accommodations for the journey from Washington 
consisted of a splendid Pullman sleeping-car (special) and 
a luxurious dining-car, and most sumptuously did we fare 
on the best of everything there was to eat. Champagne was 
served even at breakfast as well as at other meals, and was 
also at the service of any one who wanted it between meals. 
There were only four Senators, but including ladies, men 
guests, and Senate attaches our company numbered some 
thirty people. 

Joseph's camp with its brown tepees was very pictu- 
resque. Seats for the Senators had been placed in a grove of 
oaks. The rest of us stood behind the chairs of the Solons, 
and, we flattered ourselves, made a very dignified and im- 
posing picture, shaded as we were by magnificent trees, 
amongst which were the wigwams of the Indians, and be- 
tween the trees a glimpse of the almost limitless prairie 
could be had. 

At the foot of a gigantic tree, leaning with his back against 
it, sat Chief Joseph with his braves seated in a semicircle 
around him. They were at least a hundred and fifty yards 
from where the Senators had taken up their position. When 



380 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

all was ready for the "pow-wow," the chairman of the com- 
mittee sent the assistant sergeant-at-arms, with me as his 
aide-de-camp (?), to give Joseph permission to approach the 
august presence and receive a scolding. We walked up to 
the silent chief, who neither rose nor deigned to look at 
us. Christy, the assistant sergeant-at-arms, gave him the 
message through an Indian interpreter. Joseph's reply was 
that he had not sent for the Senators, nor did he care par- 
ticularly to talk to them, but if they had anything to say to 
him they could come over to where he was seated and say 
it. The programme had been that Joseph was to stand in 
front of the seated Senators while they read the "riot act" 
to him, but the wily savage had no intention of occupying 
any such undignified position. He refused to budge. As 
the mountain would not come to Mohammed, the Senators 
were compelled to go to Joseph, or else give up the confer- 
ence. They decided to go — and soon found themselves 
standing in the presence of the seated savage monarch. 

Patterson, the carpetbag Senator from South Carolina, 
was the chairman. He was not an impressive speaker, and 
used many awkward gestures, sawing the air with his arms 
when orating. He was also very vehement in his style, and 
plunged right into his subject, scolding Joseph for his sins of 
commission and omission. When he got through two more 
Senators took an oratorical fling at "Lo the poor Indian." 
All this time Joseph and his braves sat wrapped in their 
blankets — and silence. When the Senators had finished 
their tirades, Joseph, a magnificent specimen of the red man, 
standing, as he did, over six feet high in his moccasins, slowly 
arose, and as he did so his blanket gradually slipped from 
his shoulders to the ground leaving him clothed only in the 
eagle feathers of his headdress and a breech- clout. The 
first words he uttered were to ask the Senators if they had 
finished, and on being assured that they had, he began an 
oration, which, although it had to be translated by an inter- 
preter, for eloquence and pathos I have rarely, if ever, heard 



Chief Joseph as an Orator 381 

equaled. He described how his tribe had dwelt on their 
lands, which the Great Spirit had given them, from time 
immemorial; how game was plentiful, and life was pleasant; 
how they had been kind to the first white settlers who had 
come to Oregon, and how when more came they had assisted 
them; how when the whites had become more numerous 
they had fenced in the land for their cattle, spoiling the 
"hunting; and finally how the whites had ordered his people 
to "get out " ! He told how when a little boy his father made 
him promise that he never would part with any of the lands 
to the pale faces, or any one else, and that all the tales of 
settlers to the effect that the Indians had sold them land 
were false. He then went on to tell the reasons why he went 
on the war path. He described his pursuit by the army, and 
claimed that he had defeated the soldiers in every engage- 
ment ; how in one battle the troops had bravely charged his 
rifle pits and some of them had fallen within his lines, and, 
having no medical facilities, under a flag of truce he had 
sent the wounded soldiers to General Howard's camp to be 
made well. He called the attention of the Senators to the 
fact, which he said he could prove by the soldiers, that 
neither his braves nor himself had ever scalped a dead or a 
wounded white man. He also asserted that, though he was 
the victor in the fighting, under a flag of truce, as he did not 
wish to prolong the strife, he had agreed to accompany the 
soldiers to the nearest settlement where there was a fort and 
surrender on condition that he and his warriors should be 
sent back to Oregon; that, instead of keeping faith with 
him, they had disarmed his braves, and then had brought 
them to this unhealthy country. He added that it appeared 
to him the whites were afraid to fight, like men, in the 
open, and had sent them to this pest-hole to be killed by 
fever. He said that he had brought several hundred braves 
to this place and asked the Senators if they saw them around 
him. Pointing to a near-by graveyard he answered his 
own question by saying, "No; they lie over there, killed by 



382 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

your fevers!" He boldly denounced the Indian agent as a 
dishonest and immoral man, accusing him of stealing the 
rations and medicines the Government sent for his use, and 
called attention to several Indian girls who were gaudily 
dressed in the attire of white women, with their necks and 
arms bedizened with pinchbeck jewelry; he told the Sena- 
tors that those young women had once been honest squaws, 
contented with their blankets, and intended for wives for 
his young men, but with those trinkets and bright-colored 
calicos, the Indian agent and his white assistants had led 
them astray. 

When Joseph had finished his arraignment of the whites, 
without saying so much as "By your leave," he picked up 
his blanket, wrapped it around him, and, followed by his 
warriors, he was dignity, outraged dignity, personified as he 
walked away and sought the seclusion of his tepee. 



CHAPTER XLV 

"Fighting Bob" Evans gets me employment with Governor Alexander R. 
Shepherd and I go to Mexico — My brother, P. H. Morgan, is appointed 
U.S. Minister to Mexico — San Antonio, Texas, where we buy a herd of un- 
broken mules — The Canon de las Iglesias — Dangers of the mountain trail — 
Batopilas — The San Miguel silver mine — Governor Shepherd as an executive 

— A law unto himself, he wins the favor of Porfirio Diaz — In Bonanza — 
My conducta carries a hundred and forty thousand dollars in silver bars to 
Chihuahua — Instinct of the mountain mule — Beware of the polite Mexican 

— Narrow escape from falling into the hands of Victoria, the Apache Chief 

— The mountain trail strewn with silver bars. 

During the whole time I was an attach^ of the Senate I 
was longing for some more suitable position, and in 1880-81 
I confided my wishes to my old classmate in my Annapolis 
days, Rear Admiral Robley D. Evans, popularly known as 
"Fighting Bob." 

Alexander R. Shepherd, formerly Governor of the District 
of Columbia, was organizing a mining expedition to go to 
Batopilas, Mexico. Admiral, then Captain Evans, recom- 
mended me to Governor Shepherd as a good man to take 
charge of the conductas, as the mule trains carrying bullion 
to Mazatlan on the Pacific, on one side of the mountains, 
and Chihuahua, on the other, were called. 

Before we started I learned that my elder brother, Philip 
Hicky Morgan, the United States Judge of the International 
Court in Egypt, had been appointed United States Envoy 
Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to Mexico. 
This appointment only increased my desire to see that won- 
derful land, accounts of which I had greedily listened to in 
the days of my childhood when the Mexican War veterans 
talked of little else. 

Governor Shepherd was taking his whole family to 
Mexico with him, and was also accompanied by some half- 
dozen friends, all of whom evidently expected to "get rich 
quick." A large number of people were gathered at the 



384 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

station to see the Governor off and wish him bon voyage and 
all manner of good luck. We left Washington in style, 
traveling in a private car and having every luxury money 
could buy. Our first stop was in St. Louis, Missouri, where 
we spent two or three very pleasant days before proceeding 
to San Antonio, Texas, where the Governor bought a herd of 
wild mules, a number of wagons, and a couple of ambulances 
for the convenience of his family. He also engaged a num- 
ber of cowboys, and it was very Interesting and exciting 
to watch them while engaged in breaking in the wild mules 
who never before had known even the restraining influence 
of a rope. 

After some three weeks of toilsome travel over the 
desert-like plains we reached the Rio Grande at a little 
town called Presidio del Norte, and after fussing for two 
or three days with the Mexican customs officials we pro- 
ceeded to Chihuahua, Mexico, where the Governor had to 
sell the American mules and buy a new herd of mountain- 
bred ones to carry the packs over the Sierra Madres. We 
used the American animals to haul the wagons to Ysabel, 
some thirty miles from Chihuahua, a town without houses 
situated at the commencement of the foothills of the Sierra 
Madre Mountains. The inhabitants were cave-dwellers. 
We had been told that they were there, but on our arrival, 
as we saw neither houses nor people, we wondered, and 
some of us proceeded to investigate the mystery. We 
climbed the rocky hill and soon located the holes in the 
side of it in which the Indians lived. I entered one of these 
caves, which was about eight feet in diameter, and found 
a man and his wife and three children. An old iron skillet, 
a stone on which they ground their corn, and two goats, 
comprised their worldly goods. The Indians apparently 
had no curiosity concerning us and had not even taken the 
trouble to look at our large cavalcade. 

At Ysabel the wagons were unloaded and their contents 
packed on the backs of the little squirrel-like mountain 



Mountain Pack-Mules 385 

mules. This operation was very interesting to watch. A 
Mexican would lasso a mule and then blindfold him ; until 
this was done no power on earth could have cinched a pack- 
saddle on the animal's back. This blindfold was shaped 
like the eye-shades used by clerks to protect their sight 
from the glare of electric lights. With the older mules this 
operation was merely perfunctory, as the muleteers would 
carelessly hang the string over one ear and let the blind- 
fold dangle by the side of the animal's jaw. Of course the 
mule saw everything that was being done to him, but 
without that cloth somewhere about his head it was at the 
risk of life that any one approached him, and the Mexican, 
although usually brutal in his methods with animals, made 
that concession to the mule's prejudices. 

As nearly as it was possible to do so, the packs which 
each mule carried were made to weigh three hundred 
pounds. As soon as the load was well cinched to their 
backs, the mules were turned loose, but made no attempt 
to escape. The secret of this was that the old white bell 
mare was securely tethered. As soon as all was ready for 
the start the bell mare was led to the trail and started 
upon it, and the bridleless little animals fell in behind her 
in Indian file and the eight-day mountain journey com- 
menced. 

We had not traveled very far before we entered the 
Caiion de las Iglesias, or "Canon of the Churches," where 
we saw one of the grandest and most magnificent spec- 
tacles. The precipitous sides of the cafion rose to a height 
of from five hundred to two thousand feet, and the face of 
the rock at intervals took on the appearance of great cathe- 
drals. No imagination is required to discern the spires, 
towers, and minarets, and several of them have a plainly 
marked Gothic-arched entrance extending for some feet 
back into the rock. It seemed hard to realize that they were 
the work of the elements and not of some gigantic race of 
men. Some of these cathedrals of nature are beautifully 



386 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

proportioned and deeply impressed the least imaginative 
members of our party. 

The trail across the mountains is very rough and in 
some places dangerous. At one point a chasm some two 
hundred and fifty yards wide is spanned by a ridge only 
about three feet wide at the top. There are holes in it all 
the way across for the mules to put their feet in to avoid 
the possibility of slipping; there is a sheer fall of three thou- 
sand feet to the bottom on one side and seven thousand on 
the other. No one is allowed to cross on foot, and those 
who are susceptible to dizziness have to be blindfolded. 
The scenery along the trail is magnificent. At times we 
could look down and see the buzzards gracefully circling 
above the clouds. It is a strange sensation to see lightning 
below you and to hear the rumbling of the thunder as it 
rises to your level. 

We had to ford several mountain streams which, after 
heavy rains or a cloudburst, are very dangerous, and we 
passed within sight of a few Indian villages, perched high 
up on a mountain-side, whose inhabitants fled on perceiv- 
ing us, driving their goats ahead of them, and soon disap- 
pearing among the crags. With others I visited one of these 
abandoned villages and found that the Indians had left 
behind them all of their belongings that were not edible. 
From time immemorial they have been subjected to such 
cruelties by the Mexicans that they take no chances of 
coming into contact with them if they can possibly 
avoid it. 

On our arrival at the hacienda of the San Miguel mine, 
which Governor Shepherd had purchased from Mr. Fargo, 
of the famous express company, things began to be doing, 
and the native had his first experience with an example of 
the genus hustler. 

The town of Batopilas, situated on the right bank of 
the river of that name, is about a mile below the hacienda. 
Its inhabitants, with few exceptions, were miners, who 



The San Miguel Mine 387 

had been out of employment for a long time, as the mining 
industry had been at a standstill for several years. 

To reach the town from the hacienda it was necessary to 
cross the river, a very rapid stream flowing through the 
narrow canon whose precipitous sides rose to a height of 
two or three thousand feet, shutting out a glimpse of the 
sun from before ten o'clock in the morning and after three 
in the afternoon. 

The San Miguel mine was situated about half a mile 
above the hacienda. The tunnel leading into it was a little 
above the high-water mark, and after entering it we dis- 
covered that, contrary to all of our preconceived ideas, 
the miners mined upward instead of downward. Out of 
this mine several millions of dollars of silver had in the 
past been taken out. It was what is called a "pocket" 
mine, and marvelous stories were told by the natives about 
the great riches some of the pockets had contained. The 
roofs of some of the ancient pockets were sustained by 
great columns of rock out of which "native" silver, as it is 
called, protruded in the shape of nails. The richness of 
these old pillars could not be questioned, but it was 
against the law to touch them, as they were kept for the 
protection of the miners. 

Before Governor Shepherd had been at the hacienda 
twenty-four hours both it and the mine took on the appear- 
ance of a busy beehive. The notoriously lazy Mexicans 
suddenly discovered that they could move at the double- 
quick under the magnetic eye of their new ruler. It seemed 
as though by instinct the natives instantly recognized the 
big man as a born ruler, and he was in fact one of the 
ablest executives it was ever my good fortune to know. 
He seemed instinctively to know everything, although this 
was his first experience in mining. He was a man who was 
fond of luxury and would send for miles to some snow- 
capped peak for snow to make for himself a cooling drink, 
and while sitting on the piazza in a comfortable chair, 



388 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

enjoying a fine cigar, no man could pass within the radius 
of his vision that he did not instantly know what that fel- 
low could do best, and what he ought to be doing at that 
moment. 

The Governor had brought with him a large amount 
of paper money which he had had printed in New York. 
He at once opened a store at the hacienda and told the 
miners that he intended to pay them with this paper money 
and that they could buy what they wanted at the store 
with it, and the miners greedily accepted his offer. Then, 
to their amazement he ordered them to knock down those 
rich columns containing Heaven only knows how much 
native silver to the ton ! 

Naturally there were storekeepers and others who be- 
came envious, and they reported to the Government at the 
City of Mexico how the Governor had defied the law both 
in the matter of the columns and in the issuing of paper 
money without the consent of the authorities. But a little 
thing like that did not faze the Governor. The row got 
him into communication with the President, Don Porfirio 
Diaz, and soon this extraordinary Washington man had 
authority to do pretty much as he pleased in the Batopilas 
district, and even the mighty jeje politico, or sheriff, was 
courting his favor. 

In a very short time the columns were ground into dust, 
the silver extracted and cast into bars weighing about a 
hundred pounds each, two of these bars were strapped 
to the pack-saddle of each mule, and I was started with 
my conducta, carrying a hundred and forty thousand dol- 
lars worth of silver, on the trail to Chihuahua. At Chi- 
huahua the silver was turned over to a regular freighter 
whose wagon train took it across the American boundary. 

No sooner had I arrived in Chihuahua than a report 
spread that Shepherd had struck a new and immensely 
rich pocket in the San Miguel mine which was once more 
in bonanza, and the news of my arrival with the treasure 



Instinct of the Mountain Mule 389 

was telegraphed to the United States causing quite a flurry 
in mining circles. This was the beginning of the great 
boom inaugurated in Mexican mines by American pro- 
moters, in which millions of dollars, in good money, were 
invested. Worked-out mines were plentiful and cheap. 
Doubtless, if one only dug deep enough, a silver mine could 
be found anywhere in Mexico. 

Sometimes I carried the bullion to Mazatlan on the 
Pacific Coast, but the trail to Chihuahua was by far 
the most picturesque and interesting. Occasionally in the 
rainy season we would come to a mountain stream that 
was a raging torrent and impossible to ford, and then we 
had to sit down by the side of it and wait for the waters 
to subside. Of course we had no conveniences for carrying 
tents, and when it rained we got wet, and when the sun 
came out we got dry again. 

We usually traveled about twenty miles a day, but the 
distance depended upon favorable camping-spots. When 
the day's journey was over, the mules were lassoed, blind- 
folded, and hobbled, their loads and pack-saddles removed, 
and then the blindfolds were taken off, and they were 
allowed to graze on the mountain-sides — if one can call 
it grazing where no two spears of grass are within ten feet 
of each other. These hardy little animals, however, even 
with their front feet tied together, could climb like goats, 
and succeeded in getting from such scanty pasturage suffi- 
cient sustenance to enable them day after day to climb up 
rugged mountains with from two to three hundred pounds 
on their backs. Sometimes in the morning our start would 
be delayed on account of their having strayed three or 
four miles away during the night. 

The intelligence — or instinct, if one prefers to call it 
such — of these mountain mules is most extraordinary. 
We were going through an arroyo one afternoon, the bed 
of the stream perfectly dry, and its banks so precipitous 
that it seemed impossible a hoofed animal could climb them, 



390 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

when without any apparent cause a panic or stampede 
occurred, and in less time than it takes to tell it those mules, 
with their heavy packs, were climbing up the precipitous 
sides of the cliffs as though they were squirrels. The 
Mexicans followed them, on foot, while wildly crying to 
me to follow their example. I needed no persuasion, as 
my mule became unmanageable, took the bit in his teeth, 
and scampered up the steep bank as nimbly as the others. 
Perched upon a ledge, some thirty feet above the trail, I 
soon learned the cause of the excitement, as in a few min- 
utes I heard a mighty roar and then saw a wall of water 
some fifteen feet in height rushing down the arroyo. The 
Mexicans explained to me that there had been a cloud- 
burst up in the mountains, and that the rush of the torrent 
was so great that but for the sense of the so-called "stupid " 
mules, we should all have been swept to our deaths. 

This life on the trail was naturally one of hardship and 
privation. When we camped (going toward Chihuahua), I 
always made the men lay the silver bars close together on 
the ground and on these I made my bed by spreading my 
poncho, or rubber sheet, and my blanket over them. Pauper 
as I was, many is the night I slept on a fortune. My poncho 
was my sole protection from the weather in the rainy season, 
and when returning to Batopilas with the mules laden with 
goods, machinery, or provisions, I had, like the others, to 
sleep on the bare rock or ground, and many a morning 
found that I had a tarantula or a scorpion for a bedfellow, 
but I never saw any one bitten by these creatures. Rattle- 
snakes at high altitudes are also fond of human companion- 
ship and warmth, and are disposed to creep under a man's 
blanket or cuddle up alongside of him while he sleeps, but 
a hair rope laid in a circle around one's sleeping-place will 
prevent their too near approach. 

These journeys were very lonely to me. I usually had 
with me eight or ten men to manage the mules, but their so- 
ciety was not very comforting ; I much prefered the com- 



Narrow Escape from Apaches 391 

pany of the long-eared fraternity "who had neither pride of 
ancestry nor hope of progeny." I never met a Mexican who 
did not try to impress me with the idea that the only way 
one of them could be managed was by showing him great 
deference and extreme politeness ; but I found by experience 
that military discipline — fearless enforcing of orders — 
worked to much greater advantage. The man who enters 
into a bowing contest with a Mexican has lost before he 
starts. When a Mexican means mischief he always ad- 
vances on the man whom he intends to harm with his 
serape, or blanket, closely drawn about him, hiding both 
hands, and then he begins by paying his intended victim 
fulsome compliments, drawing nearer and nearer all the 
time, until close enough to use his wicked knife. Naturally 
I had occasional trouble with some of my men as to the 
propriety of their obeying orders, and when one of them 
would go into a frenzy of rage and then suddenly control 
himself and pretend that he wanted to apologize and would 
approach me, I simply would draw my pistol and order him 
to open his blanket, and never failed to find the ready knife 
concealed in its folds. I would make the fellow stand where 
he was and wait without argument until he had cooled off. 
I never found that they bore malice for any length of time, 
and besides they had quite a respect for any one who was 
handy with a gun. 

On one of my trips I came within a hair's breadth of los- 
ing my hair. I had made a very hurried journey to Chihua- 
hua with some two hundred silver bars, worth a thousand 
dollars each, which Governor Shepherd was very anxious to 
have reach the town before the regular day for the monthly 
freight wagon train to start for the American border, as 
he had an arrangement with American bankers by which 
he could draw bills against silver shipments as soon as the 
bullion crossed the Rio Grande. Despite every exertion, I 
was detained by swollen mountain streams and arrived at 
Chihuahua too late to catch the wagons. According to my 



392 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

instructions I turned the silver bars over to Mr. Macmanus, 
the Governor's agent, who insisted that I should put the 
silver into ambulances and try to catch up with the wagon 
train, which only had two days the start of me, and which 
only traveled at the rate of about ten miles a day. Mr. 
Macmanus urged this course because he said he knew how 
important it was for the Governor to have the shipment 
reach the border as soon as possible. At first I agreed to go, 
and the hour for my departure was fixed for seven o'clock 
the next morning. I was tired and hungry, and going to the 
little inn quickly ate my chile con came and tortillas and 
then went to bed. 

I thought little of the race I was to make after the wagons, 
as it was all in the day's work, and when day broke I arose, 
quickly dressed, and proceeded to Mr. Macmanus's store to 
await the ambulances. The vehicles, each drawn by four 
fresh mules, arrived on time, the silver bars were placed in 
them, I bade Mr. Macmanus and his partner good-bye, my 
foot was on the step of the ambulance, and I was about to 
give the word to start, when suddenly a queer sensation came 
over me and the idea flashed through my brain that I had no 
right to take this great responsibility on myself. I withdrew 
my foot from the step and told the agent that I had decided 
not to go! He was shocked and amazed; tried persuasion, 
and threats as to what Governor Shepherd would do if the 
bullion failed to make the connection, etc.; but I replied 
that my instructions were explicit, and that they simply 
ordered me to deliver the silver to Macmanus & Co. at Chi- 
huahua; and that I declined the responsibility of making a 
dash toward the border with it unless I had clear instruc- 
tions from Governor Shepherd to that effect. I asked them 
how, if by any accident I lost the treasure, I could explain 
why, without orders, I was speeding for the border with it, 
when my instructions were to deliver it in Chihuahua and 
take a receipt for it. At all events, I would not go. 

At twelve o'clock I was still in Macmanus's store super- 



A Narrow Escape from the Apaches 393 

intending the packing of some goods I was to take back to 
Batopilas, when suddenly I heard men in front of the store 
talking in a most excited manner. A peon from Mr. Mac- 
manus's hacienda, situated about twelve miles distant, had 
come to Chihuahua at full speed, as the condition of the 
horse he rode plainly showed. The man reported that at 
nine o'clock that morning Victoria, chief of the Apaches, 
with his band, had attacked the hacienda, killed and out- 
raged many of the residents, — in fact all who were not 
quick enough to get away and hide; that he had looted the 
buildings, and driven off all the stock! Had I started with 
the silver I was to have made my first change of mules at 
this hacienda, and I most probably would have arrived there 
simultaneously with Victoria, who was every bit as cruel 
a savage as his successor Geronimo. Instead of having any 
more fault found with my want of enterprise, I received 
many compliments, and much praise for my good judg- 
ment — and extraordinary foresight (?), etc. 

On one of my trips from Batopilas to Mazatlan on the 
Pacific Coast with a conducta of over a hundred thousand 
dollars worth of silver bars, we came to a place in the moun- 
tains where the trail was literally strewn with silver bars, 
and not a man or a mule was to be seen. The bars lay on 
the ground some thirty to sixty yards apart and there were 
a great many of them. My men were certain that a conducta 
had been attacked by ladrones and urged me to hurry on, as 
they feared the bandits would return for their booty as soon 
as they had driven its lawful guardians well away. To tell 
the truth, by that time I knew the Mexicans well enough to 
know that had I stopped and tried to save the bullion, I 
would have received scant thanks from its rightful owners. 
My men also begged me not to say anything about it, as 
they feared they would be imprisoned until the bandits were 
captured — a very indefinite period, indeed. I sympathized 
with my peons, for a Mexican jail is no joke. It is expected 
by the authorities that a prisoner's family will feed him, and 



394 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

if he has no money or friends, the only things he is given to 
eat are soup, made from the heads and shin bones of some 
unfortunate animal, and a crust of coarse bread not fit for 
human beings to eat. I visited one of the jails once and a 
filthier place it would be hard to imagine. 



CHAPTER XLVI 

Resign position as chief of conductas and start for home via Mazatlan and 
San Francisco — Alamos — Witness marriage between a Mexican girl and a 
German — New York — A dress-suit my chief asset — Return to Mexico 
and become a civil engineer (?) — Primitive coaching — Queretaro and its 
opal mines. 

To the wanderer in strange lands home becomes endowed 
with all sorts of advantages which had not been perceived 
before he roamed away from it. The fact that he left be- 
cause he Could not make a living there is entirely forgotten. 
My life on the trail was one of hardship, and I could see no 
prospect of bettering it if I spent the rest of my days on one 
mule while driving others up and down the mountain-sides. 
In the lonely hours of the night I thought of many things 
I could do if I could only once more put my foot on my 
native heath. A job appears to be about the easiest thing 
in the world to get to a man who is not in need of one. 

I resigned my position as chief of conductas, and Governor 
Shepherd made arrangements for me to accompany, on my 
way home, one Don Ramon, a merchant in Batopilas who 
was about to start for Mazatlan with a conducta. Young 
Lyman Learned, of Pittsfield, Massachusetts, a boy of 
eighteen, who was in ill health, also took advantage of the 
opportunity to return to the States, or "God's own coun- 
try," as self-exiled Americans call it. 

There is no race on earth that the Mexicans, high or low, 
hate as they do the Americans, and Don Ramon did not 
hanker after our company and made no secret of the fact. 
But to avoid incurring the displeasure of the all-powerful 
Governor Shepherd, he, with rather bad grace, consented 
to allow the two Gringos to ride along the same trail in 
sight of His Highness's mules. 

"Gringo," being interpreted, means the "unintelligible," 
and is an expression of contempt applied to all Americans. 



396 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Arriving at the town of Alamos, we spent two days making 
arrangements to have our mules returned to Batopilas and 
also waiting for a tri-weekly stage that would take us to the 
coast of the Gulf of California and from thence to Mazatlan. 
While at Alamos we saw a rather unique ceremony. A young 
German was to be married to the daughter of a prosperous 
Mexican merchant, and before the ceremony could be per- 
formed he had to be taken to the fountain, in the centre of 
the plaza on which the church was situated, where he was 
stripped and publicly bathed. A sheet was then wrapped 
around him; and he walked to the steps which led up to 
the portals of the church, where he was made to crawl on all 
fours until he reached the door; then he was made to get 
down on his belly and wriggle his way up the aisle to the 
chancel rail, where he was again permitted to stand erect 
while he renounced Protestantism ; after which he was con- 
ducted to the vestry, where he arrayed himself in his best 
clothes and returned to meet his bride at the altar and the 
ceremony was at last performed. 

A wedding in Mexico was at this time a most expensive 
luxury. I was told that no priest would marry a couple, 
even if they were peons, for a smaller fee than three hun- 
dred dollars, and in that day no peon could hope to save 
that amount, from his scant wages of five or ten cents for 
a day's work, in a lifetime. So the poorer classes just did 
without the blessing of the Church, and I must say, to the 
credit of the Mexicans, that it rarely, if ever, happens that 
one of them deserts the mother of his children. 

Learned and I took passage in a steamer bound for San 
Francisco, and singular to relate she proved to be the iden- 
tical ship I had once made a voyage in from Charleston, 
South Carolina, to New York nearly twenty years before. 
Remembering some acrobatics the old "water-bruiser" had 
performed off Cape Hatteras on that occasion, I earnestly 
prayed that we should not butt into one of those not in- 
frequent gales that the Pacific is famed for. 



Back in New York 397 

After a short and pleasant stay in San Francisco, Learned 
and I started on our tedious overland journey to New York, 
where I found myself in a few days and at once went in 
search of that employment which had seemed so easy to 
obtain in my day-dreams when following the lonely trail in 
Mexico. But in the turmoil of New York's busy streets 
there seemed to be no place for dreamers of vague dreams, 
and I soon found myself wandering about with no very 
definite object in view. I did not know how to ask a stranger 
to give me employment, and if the stranger had asked me 
what I could do, I could only have anwered, "Reef, furl, 
and steer, a little navigation, ride a horse, and some little 
knowledge as to how sugar cane and cotton seed ought to 
be planted," and I began to have grave doubts as to whether 
my accomplishments would make me an invaluable em- 
ployee in a counting-house. 

I suppose every man has his little fad, idiosyncrasy, or 
peculiarity secreted some place about his person ; at least all 
the men I have ever met carried around some pet foible. 
Among my acquaintances the man who came nearest to 
being free from fads was a millionaire who was lavish in his 
hospitality, and as generous as a prince ought to be ; but alas, 
his pet and only economy was the saving of matches and it 
really hurt his feelings to see one wasted. 

One of my idiosyncrasies was a dress-suit. Through hope 
and despondency I clung to mine in whatever part of the 
world I was, and it never failed to reward me by securing 
for me a good time which, had I not been so loyal to it, 
would have been impossible. So after tramping the streets in 
the business district downtown all day, I would seek that 
dress-suit when the shades of evening ended my fruitless 
quest, and as I donned it my dejected air as by magic disap- 
peared, and once more I became the man of the world with- 
out a care, usually spending my evenings at some entertain- 
ment at the houses of my wealthy friends, or at the clubs, to 
several of which I always had cards of invitation when in 



398 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

New York. Many of my friends would have gladly assisted 
me in getting employment, but how can a man be helped 
in that way when he becomes speechless as the first busi- 
ness conundrum is asked him — "What do you know how 
to do?" 

To the impecunious man the day to "move on" comes 
sooner or later, generally sooner. I one day met the captain 
of a steamer which was about to sail for Vera Cruz, and 
taking a fancy to me, the skipper invited me to accompany 
him, as his guest, on the voyage. Of course I accepted, and 
on the ship met a Mr. Van Vleck, a civil engineer, who, 
accompanied by his son and three other young men, was on 
his way to Mexico in the employment of the Mexican Cen- 
tral Railroad, a corporation which at that time had recently 
been formed. Mr. Van Vleck informed me that his engineer- 
ing party was complete with the exception of a "topog- 
rapher" and offered me the position. When I told him I 
had no knowledge of the work, he brushed aside my scruples 
by saying that he would teach me, and of course I was per- 
fectly delighted with the opportunity. 

At Vera Cruz the American Consul informed me that my 
brother, the Minister, was spending a few days at Orizaba, 
and I at once proceeded to that place to visit him. After a 
few pleasant days spent with my brother and his family, I 
had once more to come down from my high horse, as the 
brother of the representative of the United States, and go 
to work as a "sub" in the engineering party, which I joined 
in the City of Mexico. We proceeded by stage-coach to 
Leon where we were to commence our work. 

Traveling by stage-coach in Mexico (before the days of 
the railroads) was a most exhilarating and exciting experi- 
ence. Besides the very rough roads and beautiful scenery 
there was always the possibility, if not probability, of hav- 
ing a brush with bandits, and the certainty of an upset at 
more or less frequent intervals. The stage-coaches were 
drawn by nine mules — two at the pole, four in the "swing," 



Traveling in Mexico by Stage-Coach 399 

and three in the lead. The stage-driver was a man of great 
importance whom every one treated with marked deference. 
He never condescended to do anything but drive, and along- 
side of him, on the box seat, was his mozo or servant. At 
his right was a stand containing three varieties of whips 
with lashes of various lengths for use on the wheelers, or the 
mules in the swing, and the longest was for use on the lead- 
ers, who were so far away that it was difficult to reach them 
with any accuracy. This difficulty was provided against by 
the mozo supplying himself with a bucketful of pebbles, 
which he threw with such accuracy that he could hit either 
ear of any mule in the lead, especially if he was offered a 
small coin for an exhibition of his skill. Of course the con- 
trol of that number of hard-headed and hard-mouthed mules 
was accomplished principally by a powerful brake on which, 
by placing his foot on the lever, the driver could throw his 
whole weight. 

Occasionally when the mules were changed at a hacienda 
a perfectly wild and untrained one would be brought out and 
blindfolded and then most unceremoniously thrown down 
and his feet tied ; while in that uncomfortable position the 
harness would be put on him and he would be hitched to 
the stage as one of the inside mules of the swing. Then the 
other mules would be placed and the wild animal's feet 
untied, the blindfold removed as the driver shouted to his 
team, and away they would go at the gallop while the 
frenzied and frightened wild mule would be plunging and 
kicking and throwing himself on the ground in his despera- 
tion. But the rest of the team never wavered or hesitated 
in their mad race, and whether lying on his side or kicking, 
the unruly one was dragged along until he learned that it 
was more comfortable to gallop with the rest than to be 
dragged over the rough stones on his side. The lesson was 
usually learned in a mile or two. 

On our way to Leon we passed through the rather pretty 
city of Queretaro, near which the Emperor Maximilian 



400 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

was so cruelly put to death. One of the most singular traits 
of the Spanish race is their fastidiousness about the place 
where they murder an honorable enemy. They must have 
a wall to put his back against. The wall, or something 
equally as good, is an absolute requisite properly to stage 
the sport. About two miles from Queretaro, standing alone 
in a broad and level prairie, rises a solitary rock some hun- 
dred feet long and about thirty feet high with a precipitous 
side, and poor Maximilian, who after his capture was im- 
prisoned in the city, was taken all that distance before his 
execution so that his murderers could have a fitting back- 
ground for the tragedy. 

Another thing for which Queretaro is famous is Its opal 
mines. I was fortunate enough to obtain permission to enter 
one of these mines, and lit up by torches the interior fur- 
nished one of the most beautiful sights that eye ever beheld. 
It was like fairyland. The multi-colored jewels reflected the 
light from the dome, the sides, and the floor of the cave. 
There were pieces of opal, protruding from the walls, which 
were as large as a man's body, and I no longer wondered 
why opals were cheap in Mexico. At the hotel I bought a 
handful of small stones from a peon, who seemed gleeful 
when I paid him with a Mexican silver dollar. I was after- 
wards informed by the proprietor of the inn that I had 
been outrageously swindled, as had he known I wanted to 
buy opals he would have furnished me with twice the 
number for half the price. 



CHAPTER XLVII 

Leon, the city whose sole industry is the carving of leather and making of 
saddles — Running trial lines on the gallop — La Piedad — Did n't flop 
quick enough and got stoned — The brave peccary — The strangler tree — The 
tree that bleeds blood — Come upon a murdered man lying on the road — 
The volcano of Colima — General Grant only likes rebels who fought — Mr. 
Gilmore comes near losing his life in the Jule River — Return to the States 
to finance a silver mine. 

On our arrival at Leon we were surprised to find so large 
and thriving a city so far in the interior and of whose exist- 
ence we had theretofore been ignorant. The secret of its 
prosperity lay in the fact that it was the centre of the sad- 
dlery and carved leather industry for which it is famed in 
Mexico. 

We bought horses and saddles and engaged mozos (serv- 
ants who care for the horses), for this unique surveying 
party was to be mounted. The reason for this was that 
there was a rival corporation in the field and the one which 
first got its maps to the City of Mexico would obtain the 
rich concession. 

We took our departure from Leon, and when we had got 
well out of sight of the place, the race began. The "flag" 
man would be sent at the gallop as far ahead as he could be 
seen by the "transit" man, and the "chain" men measured 
the distance on the trot. As soon as they were far enough 
ahead, the transit stand was folded and given in charge to a 
mounted peon and he and the engineer put spurs to their 
horses and caught up with the flag. The work of the man 
with the level and of the topographer was necessarily slower, 
and after the start we rarely saw the party again until we 
rejoined them, sometimes late in the night, at the camp or 
village where they slept. In this manner we sometimes 
went over as much as thirty miles in a day, but as the very 
rough work was to be done over again before any railroad 



402 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

was built, it did not matter. The concession was the thing 
to get, and after that was secured the engineers that were to 
follow would do the real work. At towns like Irapuato, La 
Piedad, etc., we would stop for days while the maps were 
being made, and as soon as finished they were hurried on to 
the City of Mexico and the concession claimed. They were 
very pretty maps and served their purpose well, but I should 
have hated to be a contractor who based his estimates on 
them. 

This surveying expedition was a very interesting experi- 
ence to me. My duties necessitated my riding for miles 
away from the line, and although I had few adventures 
worthy of being recounted, still I saw much of the country 
that was of interest, such as visiting a silver mine situated 
on the top of a mountain so high that the snow never 
melted, and going down the mountain-side, in less than an 
hour, I found myself in a country where oranges, pineapples, 
and bananas grew luxuriantly. 

While in La Piedad I had a somewhat unpleasant experi- 
ence owing to my ignorance of the manners and customs of 
the people. La Piedad, as its name indicates, is a very reli- 
gious town. I was walking on the principal street one day 
when a religious procession came along. I saw the people 
kneel on the dirty roadway as the crucifix approached, but 
not being a Catholic I had no idea that I was expected to do 
likewise; but the Mexicans easily made their desires under- 
stood by the accursed Gringo by throwing a shower of 
stones at me, several of which hit their mark before I could 
find refuge in an open doorway. 

On another occasion, while alone, I saw a peccary, a small 
wild hog, come out of a jungle and stop in the middle of the 
trail. These animals are fighters and wonderfully brave. 
To get a good shot at him with my Winchester rifle I dis- 
mounted and fired, with the result that the peccary was 
wounded and my horse broke away and left me standing 
there, while the pig squealed and four of his companions 



The Strangler Tree 403 

answered to his call of distress and made an awful row over 
him. They stood there, some hundred and fifty yards from 
me, until I shot the last one of them down. These animals 
have a gland on their backs near the tail which, when they 
are injured, emits a stench that would make a skunk turn 
green with envy, and which if not quickly removed with a 
knife in a manner well known to the Mexican, permeates 
the flesh and makes it unfit for food, but when the operation 
is successfully performed the meat is sweet and the hams 
are unexcelled in delicacy of flavor. 

Among the sights which made an impression on me was a 
forest of wild orange trees through which we rode for miles. 
I also saw many of the hygera, a species of the banyan tree 
in appearance. This tree is an assassin and a strangler. It 
starts as a slender vine and quickly climbs the tree it has 
selected for a victim — forms a network around the trunk, 
and creeping out on the branches it sends down vines which 
on reaching the ground take root and quickly grow to the 
size of large posts. The lacework formed by the vine 
around the trunk of the doomed tree grows into a solid mass, 
and as the hygera grows with great rapidity it tears the 
roots of the tree out of the ground and replaces them with 
its own. I saw one of these parasite trees which, with its 
posts supporting its limbs, covered at least half an acre of 
ground. 

Another tree which interested me very much produced a 
fruit about the size of a large apple with a russet-colored, 
thin skin, which contained a most delicious custard; one 
tasting it could hardly believe that it was not made by some 
expert cook. I also saw a tree called the sangre, about 
which the Mexicans in our party seemed to be somewhat 
superstitious. When the bark was cut through with a knife, 
it was found that its sap was of the color of blood and left a 
stain on a handkerchief exactly as blood would do. 

But there were other sights to be seen in Mexico besides 
the beauties of nature. I was riding along a public highway 



404 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

early one morning when a heavy fog prevailed. Suddenly 
my horse shied and whirled around so suddenly that I was 
almost unseated, and after I had got him under control, he 
could not be persuaded to return to the spot where he had 
balked until my mozo had dismounted, and leading his own 
horse, led the way. An exclamation from the mozo caused 
me to dismount also, and on approaching him I plainly saw 
through the now lifting fog the cause of my horse's fright. 
There, lying on his back, with wide-open, bulging eyes, was 
a fine-looking man with about a foot of a machete standing 
up out of his breast. His dead body lay in a pool of blood. 
My mozo examined him and expressed the opinion that the 
poor fellow had not been dead for very long, as his body was 
still warm. As we could do nothing for him, we continued 
on our way, and until we reached the next village the mozo 
kept entreating me not to mention what we had seen. At 
the town I met an American who had been many years in 
the country, and naturally I confided to him our gruesome 
secret. To my surprise he advised me to ride on, and to ride 
fast, as at any moment an official might be informed of the 
tragedy, and if it was known that my mozo and I had passed 
along that road we should be thrown into prison and kept 
there until our friends could produce the murderer who had 
committed the awful deed. I took his advice, and urged on 
by my mozo, rode fast. 

Our road took us within a short distance of Colima, that 
wonderful volcano which, with almost clocklike regularity, 
sends up into the heavens a great cloud of smoke every four 
hours. 

Without further adventure I arrived at the City of Mex- 
ico, where I became an attache of the Legation and spent 
several very pleasant months in that beautiful climate, 
where it is never very hot or cold and where the elements are 
so well regulated that in the rainy season one can tell by 
looking at his watch about when it is going to rain. At the 
same hour every afternoon the shower comes down, and 



The City of Mexico 405 

after it has laid the dust, Society enters its carriages and all 
the swells go out for a drive. The last piece of property a 
Mexican parts with, when adversity overtakes him, is his 
carriage. 

My brother's residence, on the fine public square called 
the Alameda, and the United States Legation, were twin 
buildings adjoining each other. One morning, coming out 
of the Legation, I was accosted by a gentleman who asked 
to be directed to Judge Morgan's house. Although I had 
never met General Grant, I instantly recognized him from 
his resemblance to the many portraits I had seen. While I 
was offering to escort him into the house, my brother ap- 
peared and, after greeting the general, laughingly said: 
'* Do you know that is a rebel you are talking to, General?" 
The ex-President gave me a kindly smile and turning to 
Judge Morgan replied: "Well, the question is, did he fight? 
It is only the other kind of rebels I can't get along with." 
And that is the extent of my only interview with the great 
Union general, as he and my brother entered the house and 
I never saw him again. 

There was sojourning in the City of Mexico at this time a 
young gentleman from New Orleans by the name of Gil- 
more. One of his brothers had married a daughter of Judge 
Morgan. Gilmore had been tempted to go to Mexico by 
stories he had heard about the golden opportunities that 
there awaited young men of energy. He unfortunately fell 
into the hands of an enthusiastic disciple of Colonel Sellers, 
who persuaded him that there was " a fortune in pigs." Gil- 
more invested his money with him in a ham manufactory in 
Puebla, with the usual result, that when the partnership was 
dissolved, Gilmore received only the experience for his share 
of the assets. 

One day Gilmore informed me that he had received a 
communication from a Mexican who dwelt a hundred or 
more miles away, on the road to Tampico, offering him 
a three-fourths interest in a rich silver mine if he would 



4o6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

furnish the money to work it. Gilmore was enthusiastic 
over the proposition and offered me an interest (in the com- 
pany to be formed) if I would go with him and investigate 
the property. I jumped at the chance, and accompanied by 
two mozos we mounted our horses and started for — we 
did not know where. 

We finally found the man who owned the mine and he 
piloted us to it. It did not require an expert to see that there 
was silver in the vein, as pieces of metal larger than ten- 
penny nails stuck out of the rocks, and we were permitted 
to take away with us a small bagful as samples to show 
prospective investors. 

As Gilmore and I had more time than anything else, we 
determined to prospect the country further and in fact ride 
as far as Tampico, a seaport we both desired to see. So we 
bade an adios to the Mexican who owned the mine and 
again started on our travels. 

We proceeded on our way until we reached the Jule 
(pronounced "Hoola"), or India Rubber River, where we 
proposed to stop for a long rest. It was well that we had 
determined to rest there, as there was a freshet and we found 
the stream unfordable until the waters should subside. On 
our way to the river our narrow trail led at times through a 
dense growth of wild lemon bushes whose leaves were in- 
fested with a tick whose Mexican name is too indecent to 
mention. This tick, on being brushed off the leaves by a 
horseman's legs, gets under his trousers and bores its way 
through the skin, where it deposits eggs which soon cause 
an ugly sore and a scab to form, which rapidly grows and 
has the appearance of small horns. They sometimes grow 
to a length of three quarters of an inch and the slightest 
touch causes them to give most agonizing pain, and fre- 
quently they cause the temporary loss of the use of the 
lower limbs. The itching is maddening. The antidote for 
these insects grows on the same bush on which they live, in 
the shape of a lemon whose juice instantly kills them, but 



A Narrow Escape from Drowning 407 

this fact we did not know at the time, and suffered accord- 
ingly. 

On the side from which we approached the stream were 
cliffs some seventy feet in height, and the river was reached 
by the dry bed of an arroyo which formed the road to the 
ford. The stream at this point was some four hundred yards 
in width and the shore just opposite was low. Below the 
ford cliffs arose on the other side, the river rapidly nar- 
rowed, and the current greatly increased in velocity until 
the water poured over falls, some eighty feet in height, a 
few hundred yards farther downstream. 

We longed for a bath, and lost no time in taking off our 
clothes and entering the water. There was a small islet, the 
crest of a sandbar, which showed its top above the water, 
and I swam for it. Making a landing, I lay down and began 
to rub my itching skin with sand and called out to Gilmore 
(who had told me that he could swim) to come over and 
enjoy it. Gilmore struck out, and when he had swam half 
the distance, to my horror, I saw that he was in trouble. I 
plunged into the water and went to his assistance. As I ap- 
proached him he threw up his arms and sank, but I was 
fortunate enough to grab and raise him to the surface. I 
was dismayed to find that he had lost consciousness, but 
supporting him with one arm I swam for the shore with the 
other, naturally making but slow headway, and conscious 
of the fact that the current was increasing in velocity every 
moment. i\.t last we reached the cliff and I seized a small 
bush which was growing out of a crevice in the rock. For a 
few moments my anchorage held while I shouted to the 
Mexican mozos for help. Then, after a few seconds, the roots 
of the bush were torn out by our weight and again we were 
carried down by the current. This happened again and 
again while the roar of the falls came nearer and louder each 
moment. At last I caught hold of a tuft of grass, the last 
hope in sight, and before it pulled out from its fastenings 
the mozos on top of the cliff tied their lassos together and 



4o8 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

lowered them down to me. I at once made them fast to 
Gilmore's body and told the Mexicans to hoist away, which 
they did, and after great effort they finally landed him safe, 
but still insensible. While Gilmore was being hoisted up, 
my tuft of grass came out and I went drifting down the 
stream, only able to retard my progress by pressing my torn 
hands against the almost smooth side of the cliff, but finally 
— it seemed ages to me — the mozos again lowered the 
lasso, and I was hauled up to safety. I found that my friend 
was still unconscious, and to the amazement of the Mexi- 
cans I made them help me to hold him upside down until the 
water ran out of him, and after working his arms up and 
down and attempting to revive him by artificial respiration, 
at the same time rubbing him with mescal (native whiskey 
made from the maguey plant) we succeeded in bringing 
him to. 

After a wait of four or five days, until the waters sub- 
sided and Gilmore had recovered from his shock, we waded 
and swam our horses across the river which had so nearly 
caused our finish, and continued our journey. On our way, 
when near the head of navigation on the Panuco River we 
met with a strange character in the shape of a white man 
who said he was from Philadelphia originally, but had lived 
in Mexico for thirty years. He was a quack doctor, and evi- 
dently belonged to the class of **lost" men whose people, if 
he had any, supposed dead. The doctor, without invitation, 
joined our party and proceeded with us to Panuco. He be- 
came very friendly on the way, and informed me that he 
knew where there was a lake of asphalt and that for a very 
small consideration he would guide me to it. But my mind 
was engaged in dreaming dreams about the great wealth to 
be obtained out of the silver mine, so I paid very little 
attention to his story. 

Gilmore and I proceeded to Tampico, stayed there a few 
days, and returned to the City of Mexico without further 
adventure. It was decided that I should take the little bag 



Financing a Silver Mine 409 

of ore samples and go to New York, via Vera Cruz and 
Havana, for the purpose of raising money to exploit our 
find. I could interest no one in New York in the enterprise, 
so, procuring some letters of introduction to people in 
Chicago, I went to that city only to find that the instant 
silver mines were mentioned I was looked upon with sus- 
picion. In fact, the capitalists seemed to take it for granted 
that I was one of the class of operators who wished to or- 
ganize a company to work an imaginary hole in the ground, 
to sell stock to confiding old maids and widows with stories 
showing how a five-dollar investment in the stock would 
produce millions, and having got their money to skip. I 
returned to New York depressed by my failure as a promo- 
ter, and to add to my troubles I found myself getting short 
of funds and no employment in sight. 



CHAPTER XLVIII 

Return to Tampico and get shipwrecked on the bar — A squaw man who 
was a quack doctor — Find a lake of asphalt and strike oil — A precarious 
ferry — 111 with fever and receive a matrimonial proposal. 

My experience with the silver mine ought to have taught 
me that rich mines and asphalt lakes are luxuries only for 
the already rich, and that the mines of Golconda would be 
absolutely useless to a man without capital to work them. 
But in the weary weeks I spent in New York at that time I 
could not get the idea of that asphalt lake out of my head, 
and I became a victim to one idea and that was to find my 
vagabond friend, the self-styled "doctor," again. 

Unexpectedly becoming the possessor of a small amount 
of cash, I started at once for New Orleans, determined to 
work my way back to Tampico from that city if my money 
gave out; but luck was again with me, and at New Orleans 
I met my old friend Captain Mcintosh, who commanded a 
ship bound to Mexico and making Tampico one of her ports 
of call. Telling my friend of my plight he kindly offered me 
a free passage which I gratefully accepted. 

During the Mexican War in 1846 several vessels were 
sunk to blockade the port of Tampico, and at the time of 
which I write a bar extended across the entrance with so 
little water on it that ships had to lie some distance out and 
transfer their freight to lighters. (The bar has been dredged 
in recent years.) 

With some difficulty, on account of a northeaster blowing, 
with two or three other passengers I was transferred to a 
ramshackle steam launch. The sea was running quite high, 
and when we got on the bar the little craft rose on the crest 
of a high curler and the next moment her bow struck the 
bottom just as another wave capsized her, throwing us into 
the sea. Boats put out from the ship, and amongst others, I 



An Asphalt Lake 411 

was pulled into one of them, but several Mexicans who 
could not swim were drowned. 

From Tampico I went to the head of navigation on the 
Panuco River as a passenger on a little stern-wheel steam- 
boat which had originally plied on the bayous of Louisiana. 
Landing at the village, I had no difficulty in finding my rol- 
licking doctor, who was delighted to see me again and in- 
sisted that I should be his guest. The doctor had, years 
before I met him, married (?) an Indian woman. He was 
what would have been called on our own plains a "squaw 
man." 

The question now arose as to how we were to get horses 
for our trip to the asphalt lake. The doctor could get one, 
but the natives did not seem disposed to oblige the new 
Gringo. The doctor got around the situation by walking 
some distance to the house of a patient and by representing 
that the horse he had borrowed had gone lame and it was 
necessary for him to have a sound one. His request was 
granted, and mounted on the new animal I started with 
only the doctor for a guide, and very soon found that he 
had never been to the lake and did not even know where it 
was, but was asking information from every native we met. 
It was in the rainy season and sleeping on the ground was 
very uncomfortable, and when we rolled up our blankets in 
the morning, preparatory to resuming our journey, it gave 
one a disagreeable sensation to find that a tarantula or a 
scorpion had crawled under it for the warmth and been a 
bedfellow for hours probably. 

After wandering about in the dense forest, in what began 
to look to me like an aimless way, we suddenly came upon 
the object of our search. The asphalt lake appeared to be 
about a mile long and several hundred yards wide. Its sur- 
face was hard enough to bear our weight, but it was very 
sticky. In walking along its banks I was surprised and de- 
lighted to find crude petroleum trickling through the crev- 
ices of the rocks. Here indeed was a find! Joyfully I filled 



412 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

one of the doctor's mescal bottles with a sample, and we lost 
no time in returning to the doctor's home, and from thence 
I went to Tampico and New York, via New Orleans. 

Arriving in New York I at once informed my friends, Mr. 
Clarence Gary and Mr. Frederick W. Whitridge, of what 
I had found, and they engaged Mr. John F. Randolph, 
a mining expert, to return to Mexico with me and make a 
report upon the find, as well as to file claims under the 
Mexican laws. 

We lost no time in making preparations for the journey 
and soon arrived at Panuco, where we had no difficulty in 
getting into communication with the doctor, but to our 
dismay we found it impossible to get horses on which to 
continue our journey. The doctor informed us that there 
were large herds of horses in the neighborhood, and that it 
was only a way the Mexicans had of taking their time when 
there was a chance to sell anything, and that it was useless 
to try to hurry them : if we would take it easy we undoubt- 
edly would get the animals in time, so we hired a small 
vacant adobe house and proceeded to wait — wait. The 
only thing that would stand a chance of winning in a wait- 
ing contest with a Mexican would, in my opinion, be the 
Washington Monument. 

The days dragged slowly by until Mr. Randolph an- 
nounced that his business at home would not permit of his 
remaining any longer and we began to pack up our things 
and make inquiry about a boat to take us back to Tampico. 
The next morning there were between twenty and thirty 
horses lined up in front of our house waiting for a purchaser, 
and we found them very reasonable in price. 

Having our mounts and a pack-horse, with the doctor as 
our guide, we started for the lake. The doctor was a gay 
old guide. He told us that he had a patient who would give 
us accommodation for the night, and that he would take us 
to the house by a short cut through the dense forest. Night 
came on, and it was soon evident that he had lost his bear- 



Prospecting for Oil 413 

ings. Randolph got an ugly fall into a mud puddle when 
his horse stumbled, and then the animal ran away, which 
made things worse. Next the doctor was dragged from his 
saddle by a tangled mass of vines and his horse also escaped, 
leaving the doctor and Mr. Randolph to proceed on foot, 
tripping at almost every step. It was after midnight, and 
it was a very dark night too, when we arrived at the bamboo 
house, only to find that the owner was dying. The doctor 
alone was allowed to enter, but the old women of the house- 
hold, with their faces well covered by their rebozos (shawls), 
supplied us with much-needed coffee and tortillas. The 
horses of the doctor and Mr. Randolph were recovered by 
peons the next morning, and we proceeded to a river which 
was too deep to ford. The doctor went some distance up 
the stream to get an Indian and his boat to ferry us across. 
The boat, a canoe made out of the trunk of a tree, was very 
cranky, and when we had put our traps into her and got in 
ourselves her gunwales were not more than three inches out 
of the water, and to add to the precariousness of the situa- 
tion we had to lead four horses by the lassos while they 
swam alongside of the boat. 

We arrived at the lake and Mr. Randolph made a super- 
ficial survey of it and marked out some claims for oil wells, 
and after taking more samples we went on to the town of 
Vanilla and the doctor returned home by himself. 

Vanilla is the great market of Mexico for the vanilla 
beans. As one enters the town the odor of vanilla is so 
strong that the atmosphere is impregnated with it, and no 
wonder, as the streets in front of every house are partially 
covered with blankets on which the beans are spread to 
cure before being shipped. The beans are brought into 
town by the Indians. They are grown in the forest, where 
each vine has a tree to itself. No particular tree belongs to 
any individual until he has planted his vine alongside of it. 
A stranger would imagine that inextricable confusion as to 
the ownership of particular vines would arise, but such was 



414 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

not the case. I was told that not only did each Indian 
remember where he had placed his seed, but that no alter- 
cations ever arose among them as to the ownership of par- 
ticular vines. In Vanilla we learned that there were other 
parties to the westward who were prospecting for oil, and it 
was decided that it would be best for me to go in search of 
them and find out what they were doing, and then to return 
to Tampico to attend to some business there in connection 
with the claims. 

It was a long and lonesome ride over a trail I had never 
been over before — I was unaccompanied even by a mozo. 
I found the oil men, and they showed me a spot where they 
had sunk a shallow well and struck oil a few feet below the 
surface. There was no way at that time of marketing the 
stuff. It was flowing over the ground and going to waste. 

Proceeding on my way, I was soon attacked by the form 
of malaria common in the tierra caliente, and was com- 
pelled to stop at a small settlement whose head man was a 
Mexican of rather light color. For a consideration he hos- 
pitably consented to furnish food for my horse and myself 
and also permit me to sleep on the bamboo poles which 
formed the bunks in the usual thatched shed some little 
distance from his house, and there I lay tossing with fever 
for I do not know how many days; my host afterwards told 
me I had been delirious. 

It was while lying in my bunk after I regained my senses 
that I witnessed a very interesting festival. All children in 
Mexico are named after the saint on whose day they are 
born. Those bom on Christmas are named Jesus, and when 
a male child is bom on a day which has been set apart for a 
lady saint, the poor little fellow is christened Mary, Magda- 
len, Dorothy, or whatever other girl name the saint bore 
whose feast-day it happened to be. 

The day I refer to was the birthday of the sole child of the 
head man. There were thirty or forty men and women, the 
latter, of course, wearing their rebozos over their heads 



A Mexican Fiesta 415 

and a part of their faces. They seated themselves on the 
bare ground in a semicircle, a few yards from where I lay, 
and opposite them, seated on rustic chairs, were two musi- 
cians who played, one on a small and the other upon a huge 
guitar, the largest I had ever seen. 

The daughter of the house, accompanied by her father, 
soon made her appearance, and in a most staid and solemn 
manner took up a position in the centre of the circle and 
commenced dancing for the entertainment of her guests. 
The girl was of an unusually light complexion: she was tall 
and handsome and the undulating motions of her lissome 
body reminded me of the movements of a leopard. Her 
great bright black eyes would blaze with light one moment 
and the next soften and languish according to whether the 
music was fast or slow. Her jet-black hair hung down her 
back in two large plaits which reached to her knees. Her 
dress was made of calico of a brilliant red hue, and I thought 
it rather immodestly short for a Mexican woman, as it 
barely reached to her instep. 

Her dancing reminded me of Egyptian dancing, as it con- 
sisted mostly in movements of the hips, and the bare feet, 
barely lifted from the ground, seemed only used to turn 
her around and around in unison with the slow music. 

The fiesta commenced in the afternoon. There were inter- 
missions in the dancing for refreshments consisting of coffee 
and native beer, after which the dancing was continued 
far into the night. I was surprised to see that none of the 
young men sought to dance with the girl, but suppose that 
it would not have been in good form for them to offer to do 
so on such an occasion. 

Despite my diet of tough beef, fried, of course, and all on 
fire with hot chile pepper, I commenced to get better, and 
my lonesomeness made me all the more anxious to be on 
my way again. I had never seen the daughter of the house 
except on the occasion of the fiesta, and of course I had 
never spoken to her. Judge of my surprise when one day 



41 6 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

her father joined me and said that he wanted to have a talk 
with me. I naturally told him to go ahead, and to my grer.t 
amazement he made me a financial statement of his assets 
consisting of his home, land, cattle, horses, and goats. I 
could not think what he was driving at until he told me that 
the girl I had seen dancing was the idol of his heart and that 
his only object in life was her welfare and happiness. He 
went on to say that Mexicans made very bad and selfish 
husbands, and that he had always heard that the Americans 
were the kindest husbands in the world, and for that reason 
he wanted her to marry one. He also told me that he was 
very anxious to have her marry at once, as he suspected 
that she was already favorably inclined toward a worthless 
young Mexican who he was afraid would carry her off some 
day. He wound up his tale of romance by saying that he 
had taken a great fancy to me, and if I would become his 
son-in-law he would take me into partnership immediately, 
and eventually leave me all his property when he died. 

Naturally I was very much astounded by the proposition, 
and must confess that I was somewhat worried, as I was 
entirely in the power of this man and did not even have my 
horse to get away on, as the poor brute was being pastured 
some miles away from the settlement. It was a difficult 
situation for me, as I wished, at all costs save one, to avoid 
offending him or arousing his ire. In as kindly and sympa- 
thetic a way as possible I suggested that the young lady 
might object, as I had never had the honor of exchanging a 
word with her, but he brushed the idea aside by informing 
me that the girl had nothing to say about it, and that she 
would marry the man he chose to select for her. Things 
were getting to be serious, so I mustered up sufficient cour- 
age to tell him that there were insurmountable difficulties 
in the way of the alliance he seemed disposed to honor me 
with, and that while I fully appreciated the compliment, it 
was impossible for me to conform to his wishes, as it was a 
matter of great importance that I should return to the 



Return to the States 417 

United States immediately, and if I took his daughter with 
ine, she, not being able to speak English, would naturally be 
dreadfully lonely, homesick, and unhappy. I omitted to say 
anything about hotels being indisposed to accommodate 
us on account of her color. But such arguments as I used 
seemed to carry weight with the old fellow, and the next 
day my horse arrived and we parted most amicably. This 
was the only time in my life I was ever proposed to — or 
for. 

Being very weak and having to sleep on the ground in my 
wet clothes (it was the rainy season), the fever came on 
again, and my body was racked with pain while traversing 
the weary, lonely miles until I arrived at Panuco, where I 
found my friend the doctor, who administered some pills, 
after taking which I entirely collapsed. When I again 
became convalescent, the doctor boasted that he had ad- 
ministered thirty grains of calomel to me in one dose! 

Bidding the doctor farewell forever, I proceeded once 
more to Tampico to take ship for the States. I was fortu- 
nate enough to be in time to catch the steamer Mexico 
commanded by my old friend Captain Mcintosh, who, 
when I boarded the ship as she lay off the bar, expressed 
himself as being shocked at my wretched appearance. 



CHAPTER XLIX 

Not even any money in oil, when I am interested — President Gonzalez 
and General Porfirio Diaz — Collapse of oil scheme — Encounter General 
Charles P. Stone by accident and get employment — The Statue of Liberty 
— Swept to sea by harbor ice — Meet an old foe — Laying a corner-stone — 
General Winfield S. Hancock — Lecture my superior officer — I am appointed 
Consul-General to Australasia. 

Arriving in New York I spent my days building castles 
in the air whose only foundations were my wild speculations 
as to the amount of wealth the oil fields in Mexico were 
going to bring me. But wiser and cooler heads saw the 
danger of investing good money in our sister (?) republic. 

President Gonzalez, who had been pitchforked into the 
position of President by Porfirio Diaz because the Mexican 
constitution at that time did not permit of a Mexican Presi- 
dent succeeding himself, was a one-armed man. He had lost 
a hand while serving under Diaz in one of the latter's many 
campaigns, and Diaz, while expressing the greatest con- 
fidence in him, took the precaution of having himself ap- 
pointed as Minister of War so that he could retain control 
of the army. 

Gonzalez was a diseased man, and it was necessary to 
have his arm repeatedly amputated on account of the cica- 
trix never properly healing, and when it sloughed away 
there was danger of his bleeding to death through the ex- 
posed arteries. Everybody felt sure that there would be a 
revolution when he passed away. His arm finally was cut 
off so near the shoulder that there was no chance of a fur- 
ther amputation, and every time there was a rumor that 
the President was ill, Mexico trembled with fear, and foreign 
investors buttoned up their pockets when Mexican specu- 
lation was mentioned. The time allowed by law for us to do 
a certain amount of work on our claims passed, and they 



Collapse of the Oil Scheme 419 

lapsed. I found myself poorer than when I had first gone 
to Mexico. 

It might be interesting to mention that the constitution 
of Mexico at that time provided that in case of the death of 
the President he should be succeeded by the Chief Justice, 
but when it became known that Gonzalez's life was in grave 
danger, Congress hastily amended the law and conferred 
the succession on the President of the Senate, Mr. Rubio, 
and very shortly after the law was passed, Porfirio Diaz, 
then a man about forty-five years of age, married the 
daughter of the President of the Senate, Sefiorita Carmen 
Rubio, a girl between fifteen and sixteen years of age, and 
I must say the most beautiful girl, of the upper class, 
that I saw during my travels in that country. 

The oil field which we had located passed into the hands 
of great corporations who bitterly fought over the claims, 
and when they were not fighting each other, the Mexican 
revolutionists broke the monotony by raiding the property, 
levying forced loans, and occasionally killing a few em- 
ployees. 

After my hopes for the success of the oil enterprise were 
blasted, I remained in New York City because there was 
as good a chance of my getting employment there as there 
was in any other place, and besides, while New York is no 
place for people of moderate means to live in, it is the very 
best town in the world for the very rich and the very poor. 
The rich can find every pleasure, and the poor can live 
there better on less money than they can in any other place. 

I was disconsolately walking on Broadway one day, after 
having failed to get employment, when in front of old Trin- 
ity Church a man threw his arms suddenly around me in a 
most demonstrative manner while assuring me that he was 
delighted to see me again. The man was General Charles P. 
Stone, under whom I had served in Egypt. One of the first 
things the general said to me was that he hoped I was at 
leisure and not in any employment, and I told him that was 



420 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

very unkind, as I needed work badly and was sorely pressed 
for money — small as my expenses were. The general re- 
plied that I was just the man he wanted, as he had a place 
for me on Bedloe's Island where he was the engineer who 
was to erect the " Statue of Liberty." Naturally I jumped 
at the chance. 

Bedloe's Island was the scene of the hanging of the last 
real deep-sea pirate executed in the United States, as Gen- 
eral Stone frequently facetiously reminded me by saying 
that if the Georgia had been captured during the Civil War 
I might have occupied a very high position on Bedloe's 
Island. The quarters for the small number of troops neces- 
sary to garrison the little fort were frame buildings and 
were then used for offices. As I had no place to live on the 
island I slept at my lodgings in the city, which necessi- 
tated my being at the barge office on the Battery every 
morning at five o'clock to take a small steam launch for 
the island. At that time there was no other way of getting 
there. The launch was old and the engine was feeble and 
rickety. The winter of 1884-85 was cold, and at times much 
ice formed in the harbor. One dark and foggy morning the 
launch broke down when we were about halfway to the is- 
land. The tide was swiftly running out. An ice field quickly 
imprisoned us and we were carried nearly to Sandy Hook. 
None of the vessels — which we could hear but could not 
see — paid the slightest attention to the feeble squeal of 
our toy whistle. The day was waning and the prospect 
of passing the night out on the broad Atlantic in that little 
unseaworthy craft was not pleasant, especially as the wind 
was rising. Just as night was coming on, however, a Good 
Samaritan in the guise of a tugboat heard our shouts and 
came to our assistance, but before passing a line to us de- 
manded and received ten dollars for towing us back to the 
city. We had been all day without either food or water and 
arrived at the barge office after ten o'clock that night. 

Major Kennish, who had been on the staff of General 



Corner-Stone for the Statue of Liberty ■ 421 

Butler during the time the Dutch Gap Canal was being 
cut, had charge of the concrete work for the foundation and 
pedestal on which the statue was to stand. He became 
greatly Interested when he learned that I had been engaged 
in throwing shells at him for seven months during the latter 
part of the war, and when I made a boast about pointing a 
rifled gun on one occasion and knocking a timber out of the 
wooden tower General Butler had erected near the canal, 
and went on to give a ludicrous description of how two men 
engaged in looking through a telescope came scrambling to 
the ground. Major Kennlsh said he had good cause to re- 
member the incident, for the reason that one of the men was 
General Butler and the other was himself. 

Outside of having to catch the five-o'clock boat every 
morning my duties on the island were not very onerous. 
General Stone knew my limitations, and was very consider- 
ate. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing the scientific work and the 
foundation and pedestal grow. The stormy day on which 
the corner-stone was laid I shall never forget. I was as 
proud as though the completion of the work was due to my 
individual efforts. 

On the great day, when the hour for the ceremonial ar- 
rived, it rained in torrents, driving General Stone and the 
reception committee to shelter. The boat bearing Major- 
General WInfield S. Hancock, who was to lay the stone, was 
expected every minute, and as I knew the general well per- 
sonally. General Stone suggested that I should wait on the 
dock and receive him. The rain let up just In time, and the 
function went through without a hitch. Photographs and 
visiting cards, my own among the number, were placed in 
the niche along with coins, newspapers, etc., and unless that 
pedestal Is used in the future to sustain something besides 
that old sheet-iron effigy, which was originally designed for 
a statue of victory, that receptacle will probably be opened 
during the lifetime of people now of middle age, owing to 
the fact that the Goddess of Liberty has been so rust-eaten 



422 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

from the elements already that Anthony Comstock's society 
will soon make it a sine qua non that she either get new 
clothes or go into seclusion. 

It was Rochefoucauld, I believe, who in a cynical mood 
once said: "We even take a certain amount of pleasure in 
the very misfortunes of our friends." This was certainly the 
case with me when one day there was an awful row, on the 
parapet of the fort, between General Stone and the gifted 
artist-author-contractor, F. Hopkinson Smith, whose offi- 
cial position I never could quite define; but he was either 
interested in the contracts or else represented the society 
which raised the money to erect the statue. When the quar- 
rel was at its height General Stone called me and asked if I 
would be the bearer of a challenge for him, and of course I 
said, "Yes, with pleasure." As the verbal quarrel was about 
to be renewed, I interposed by telling the general that under 
the code no further interchange of harsh words were per- 
mitted after calling in the services of a second, and then 
I carried him off triumphantly for a private consultation. 
After the two gentlemen had had time to cool off, I settled 
the matter amicably, but oh, was n't it nuts to crack — for 
me! On several occasions in my life I had had to stand at 
attention in the presence of the chief-of-staff of the Egyp- 
tian Army while he lectured me on the subject of losing my 
temper too quickly, and now it was my opportunity to do a 
little lecturing on the same subject myself. I talked to him 
like a father, more in sorrow than actual reproof, until the 
general burst into laughter at the idea, and told me to "go 
to the devil" and settle the matter in any way I chose. 

It was while I was employed on Bedloe's Island that the 
great function of the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge to traf- 
fic took place. I was fortunate in that friends secured for 
me an invitation to be present and the party I was with had 
seats near the President. Mr. Cleveland, then Governor 
of New York, and many of the state officials occupied seats 
in a stand just opposite. I must confess that the huge form 



Opening of Brooklyn Bridge 423 

of Mr. Cleveland did not appear to advantage when con- 
trasted with the symmetrical, well-dressed, and elegant 
figure of President Arthur. But looks do not amount to 
much when history is written, and Mr. Cleveland's Admin- 
istration will be long remembered after that of Mr. Arthur 
has been forgotten. 

While I watched the President that was, and the Presi- 
dent that was to be, I found myself wondering if they ever 
acknowledged to themselves that "luck" had played any 
part in elevating them to the proud positions they occupied 
in the nation, or if they attributed their success to their 
own superior abilities and energy, as in my experience in 
life I had never met a successful man who was willing 
to acknowledge any obligation to dame Fortune. A little 
perfunctory recognition of the slight assistance rendered 
him by Divine Providence is grudgingly vouchsafed by 
the average man after once achieving success, because that 
is good form; but that is all, despite the fact that the world 
around him is filled with human derelicts, men of great 
mental powers as well as physical energy, who have labored 
through the years without attaining success. In my wan- 
derings over the world I have met many favored mortals, 
but I have never yet seen one of them who could be made 
to understand that it might not be entirely a man's own 
fault if he failed to accumulate wealth. 

The work on the pedestal was nearing completion, and 
where the winds of Fate would waft me next was a matter 
over which I had no control — and consequently was none of 
my affair. It was while thoughts such as these were running 
through my head I received a telegram which gave me the 
surprise of my life. It read: "You have been appointed 
consul-general to Australasia. Come to Washington and file 
a bond." And it was signed, "F. W. Dawson." 



CHAPTER L 

My appointment as consul-general arouses great indignation among South- 
ern office-seekers — Mr. Cleveland said he never would have appointed me had 
he known I was a "pirate" — Torpedo, in the shape of a pamphlet, comes near 
blowing up my prospects — Mr. Secretary Bayard gets angry — Mr. Cleve- 
land brushes the matter aside and wishes me bon voyage — Get married and 
start for San Francisco — Mr. Bayard recalls me to Washington by telegram 
— I sail for Australia — Seventh-Day Adventists indignant when Captain 
skips Saturday at the one hundred and eightieth meridian. 

Grover Cleveland had been inaugurated as President 
on the 4th of March, 1885, and it was early in April when 
I started for Washington to get my instructions from the 
State Department before departing for my new post. 

Friends volunteered to go on my bond. I called on the 
President and Mr. Bayard, the Secretary of State, both of 
whom received me most cordially and congratulated me 
on my appointment. And then suddenly to my amazement 
I found myself the centre of quite a storm. 

It had been many a year since the Democrats had had 
any patronage to distribute, and Washington had been in- 
vaded by an army of office-seekers, principally from the 
South, who, like the fastidious Kentuckian, "wanted a little 
sugar in theirs." The newspapers — Democratic ones — 
criticized my appointment adversely, while politicians pro- 
tested against it personally. The applicants from South 
Carolina thought that they were being robbed of a choice 
bit of patronage which belonged by right to them, and 
harped upon the fact that I had not been bom in the State, 
but I comforted myself with the knowledge that if that 
lot ever learned that Nazareth was situated beyond their 
boundary lines, there would not be left a Christian among 
them in a week. Of course some of the carpetbaggers had a 
shy at me, but much worse than that, Southern men who 
had never met me, who probably had never heard my name 
before, joined in the hue and cry against my appointment. 



Consul-General to Australasia 425 

Mr. Tillman, afterwards Senator, was quoted in one of the 
newspapers as saying that I had been a participant in one 
of the most disgraceful tragedies that had ever occurred in 
South Carolina. The remark was so worded that it left the 
reader in doubt as to whether it was Captain Tupper or 
myself who had killed Caldwell. Possibly the fact that 
while Dawson lived he never let Tillman's head rise much 
above the surface of the political whirlpool without ducking 
him, may have somewhat influenced the latter's opinion of 
myself. Senators Hampton and Butler, of South Carolina, 
were the recipients of an avalanche of indignant protests 
(from people who wanted the place for themselves or their 
friends), although neither of the Senators had had anything 
to do with getting me the plum. Things became so warm 
for them that Mr. Cleveland came to their rescue, like the 
brave man he was, and announced that the appointment 
was entirely a personal one of his own, and that he wanted 
placed before him by reputable parties some distinct 
charges against me before he would rescind it. The only 
charge submitted was that I had been an officer of the 
United States Navy and had resigned and served in the 
Confederacy, and that awful accusation was made by a 
Southern man ! It is a good joke on my self-elected enemies 
that none of them knew enough about my past life to make 
the charge that I had served on board of a Confederate 
cruiser engaged in burning American ships on the high seas, 
for that would most certainly have ended my aspirations, 
as Mr. Cleveland afterwards told my brother-in-law. Cap- 
tain Dawson, that had he known I was on the Georgia he 
never would have made the appointment. 

The mystery of my appointment ought to have been a 
very simple one to professional politicians. The solution of 
it is as follows : Dawson was the editor of the most powerful 
Democratic newspaper in the South at that time; he was 
a member of the National Democratic Committee, and 
had been a delegate to the convention which nominated 



426 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Mr. Cleveland. Senator Hampton was strongly in favor of 
the nomination of Mr. Bayard, but Dawson beat him for the 
chairmanship of the South Carolina delegation and induced 
its members to authorize him to cast the solid vote. When 
noses were counted in the convention it was discovered that 
the South Carolina delegation had just the required number 
of votes to make the selection of Mr. Cleveland certain. 
Dawson cast them for Mr. Cleveland. 

Several weeks after Mr. Cleveland had assumed the 
Presidency, Captain Dawson called at the White House to 
pay his respects, and as he entered the President's presence 
the latter, who was in a jolly mood, laughingly said: "I 
know all about what you did for me. Captain Dawson, but 
you must remember that there are others — don't claim 
everything." Dawson, in the same bantering spirit, replied : 
"Mr. President, if you will appoint my brother-in-law as 
consul-general to Australasia, I will promise you not to ask 
another favor during your administration." Mr. Cleveland, 
still laughing, replied: "Your brother-in-law is appointed. 
What is his name?" It was immediately after this conver- 
sation that I received the telegram informing me of my 
appointment. 

When Mr. Cleveland was informed that I was a little 
fifteen-year-old midshipman at Annapolis when the war 
began, he brushed aside the charge, that I was an officer of 
the navy who had resigned to fight against the flag, as un- 
worthy of serious consideration. But my troubles were not 
yet over. 

In an unlucky moment, tempted by the desire to make 
a few dollars, I had written an article calling attention to 
the remarkable resemblance between the lower classes of 
Egyptians and Mexicans in appearance, customs, and man- 
ners. That was harmless enough : but unfortunately I had 
told of some outrages perpetrated on Americans while I was 
in Mexico, and how they had been stopped by the firmness 
of Mr. Blaine when he became Secretary of State, and I also 



Secretary Bayard in a Temper 427 

had said some very complimentary things about the ex- 
Secretary, winding up with the statement that "with such 
a man at the helm there never would be any more cold- 
blooded murders in the despotism known as the Republic 
of Mexico." 

Some one of my many evil-wishers in some way got hold 
of the pamphlet and carried it to Mr. Bayard. Mr. Bayard 
immediately sent for me, and for reasons of his own also 
sent for Senator M. C. Butler. When we entered the Secre- 
tary's office it was evident that he was livid with rage. In 
his left hand he held the pamphlet, while with his right he 
pointed at it with a trembling finger while he demanded to 
know if I was the author. I told him I was, whereupon he 
flew into such a paroxysm of temper that I feared he would 
break a blood vessel. He grabbed a handful of papers which 
were lying on his desk, tore them, and threw them on the 
floor, and then stamped on them, while from his mouth he 
poured forth a torrent of abuse, until General Butler arose 
and in a very dignified manner said, in those quiet tones of 
his which his intimates knew were a danger signal: "Mr. 
Secretary, you must remember that I am a United States 
Senator!" Mr. Bayard, his voice almost choked with emo- 
tion, replied: "I am not talking to you, Senator; I am talk- 
ing to this man," pointing at me; and then he fairly wailed: 
"The President does not know of this! The President does 
not know of this!" 

I turned to Senator Butler and said: "I am not going to 
remain here to be insulted in this way." And taking no fur- 
ther notice of the Secretary, I walked out of his office and 
returned to my hotel, where half an hour later I received a 
summons to the White House. I felt that my sentence was 
about to be pronounced, and to say that I was very un- 
happy but mildly describes my feelings. 

When I was ushered Into the presence of the President, he 
was alone. In his hand he held a copy of that infernal little 
pamphlet. He was standing, and his huge figure looked 



428 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

bigger than ever to me. As I advanced toward him he ap- 
peared to be frowning (which was not a good augury to me). 
He opened the interview by saying: "Mr. Morgan, do you 
really believe Mr. Blaine to be as able a man as you de- 
scribe him in this article?" I replied: ** I most assuredly do, 
sir." Mr. Cleveland's eyes twinkled and a humorous smile 
passed over his face as he said : " I am very glad to hear you 
say so, for if you did not regard Mr. Blaine as an able man 
I am doubtful if you would have the capacity to fill the im- 
portant position I am sending you to. I wish you a pleasant 
voyage. Good-bye ! ' * 

I was fairly dazed by this unexpected turn in my affairs, 
for after my unpleasant interview with Mr. Bayard I had 
regarded the matter of my appointment as having been 
settled adversely to my hopes. How I got out of the White 
House I do not know, but when I came to my senses I was 
out in the grounds hurrying as fast as I could to tell Senator 
Butler of my wonderful interview with the President. 

That night I went to New York and a few days after my 
arrival I married Miss Frances A. Fincke, a daughter of 
Judge Charles Fincke, of New York, and we started for San 
Francisco, at which city we arrived safely without further 
adventure. 

In San Francisco I met several old friends and shipmates 
who were more than kind. There was Dick Floyd who had 
served in the C.S. cruiser Florida. I also met the Reverend 
Mr. Foute, an Episcopal clergyman and the rector of a very 
fashionable church; he was a most dignified dignitary of the 
Church. The last time I had seen Foute was some twenty 
years previously when he was a midshipman in the Con- 
federate Navy waiting in Paris for a Confederate cruiser 
which never materialized. If my memory serves me cor- 
rectly, at that time the clerical gentleman (that was to be) 
was about as wild as an " unbusted " bronco, and as apt to 
kick over the traces. Foute had been on board the Merri- 
mac.in the great fights in Hampton Roads, and in those 



Old Friends in San Francisco 429 

days would have welcomed a fight with a circular saw. I 
also met Frank Roby, one of the ablest and most gallant of 
the young naval officers of the Confederacy, with whom 
I had served on the Mississippi River in 1861-62. 

One day a police officer came to me: he turned out to 
be an old shipmate, having been a quartermaster on board 
the McRae when I joined that vessel at the commencement 
of the war. Forgetting the dignity of my position and pos- 
sibly having some recollections of his own concerning my 
midshipman days, he very unnecessarily intimated that I 
could paint the town any shade of red I preferred without 
the least fear that the police would notice the change of hue. 

The day before that appointed for our departure quite a 
good-sized bombshell was dropped into our camp in the 
shape of a telegram from Mr. Bayard. The message was 
short and to the point; it said: "Return to Washington. 
The President has not finally decided on your appoint- 
ment." Mr. Bayard was not the only man with a temper 
that day; I was slightly "peeved " myself. I wired back : " I 
sail for Australia to-morrow. Please address any further 
communication to Melbourne." This message might have 
been construed as a case of lese majeste, but so far as I was 
concerned I had stood all the hazing I intended to stand. 
I had the President's appointment in my pocket, and I de- 
cided that if I was consul-general to Australasia, my place 
was in Melbourne, and if I was not the consul-general, it 
was none of Mr. Bayard's business where I went, especially 
as the Government had advanced me no money, and I was 
traveling at my own expense. Strange to say, I never heard 
any more about the matter. 

On board the ship as passengers were representatives of 
several different religious sects who were bound for the 
antipodes bent upon the conversion of the heathen Austra- 
lian. The largest sect represented was composed of some 
forty or fifty Seventh- Day Adventists, who, if the captain 
of the ship had allowed it, would have held a continuous 



430 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

revival throughout the voyage. Their nautical lore was 
limited, and probably none of them had devoted much time 
to the study of the science of navigation. Owing to this 
omission on their part we came very near having a mutiny 
on board when one day at dinner the captain arose from his 
seat at the head of the table and with his knife rapped for 
silence. When he had secured the attention of the assembled 
company, he announced that the ship was approaching 
the one hundred and eightieth meridian of longitude which 
would be crossed during the night, and informed us that, 
although the day was Friday, the next morning would be 
Sunday, and that he would read the religious services on the 
quarter deck, as he was required to do by law. Instantly 
there was an uproar among the Seventh-Day Adventists, 
who shouted in protest against the tyrannical decree of the 
captain, accusing him of trying to rob them of their Sab- 
bath, which was Saturday. They treated with indignation 
and contempt the captain's assurance that if the ship had 
crossed the one hundred and eightieth meridian on Satur- 
day night, the next day would necessarily be Monday. 
Things looked squally for a time, until the captain offered 
a sensible compromise, tendering them the use of the saloon 
for their devotional exercises, and assuring them that he 
had not the slightest objection to their regarding the next 
day as Saturday, or any other day, so long as it did not 
interfere with the navigation of his ship. 



CHAPTER LI 

Sydney's beautiful harbor — The authorities compliment me by giving me a 
private compartment for the journey to Melbourne and I am surprised to 
find myself a prisoner therein — Beautiful Melbourne and its suburbs — Sir 
Henry Loch, Governor of Victoria — My wife suddenly ennobled — Singular 
coincidence of meeting a gentleman who had been a passenger on a ship we had 
stopped on the high seas twenty-two years previously — Wonderful Aus- 
tralian horsemanship. 

It would require the pen of a much more skilled writer 
than I am to depict the beauties of the harbor of Sydney. 
Suffice it to say that, although the harbors of New York, 
Rio de Janeiro, and San Francisco are very magnificent, 
they cannot compare in grandeur to that of the "Queen of 
the Antipodes," where the greatest ships that plough the 
seas can tie up to its docks and still have fathoms and 
fathoms of water beneath their keels. 

Every one was very kind to us in Sydney. An American 
merchant who owned an American trotting-horse took me 
for a drive in the beautiful suburbs, and we went as far as 
Botany Bay, so famed in history and story as the location 
of the much-dreaded prison settlement, all signs of which 
have disappeared long years ago. I shall always feel grateful 
to my newly made friend for his considerate advice, which 
was never, in speaking to a native, to allude to the fact that 
there was once a penal settlement in Australia, for while 
hundreds of thousands of immigrants of all classes of soci- 
ety, who had never seen the inside of a prison, lived in the 
country, they resented any allusion to its once having been 
a penal colony. A student of the vagaries of human na- 
ture would be impressed by the singular coincidence that 
the criminals who were deported to the American colonies 
by the mother country, like their Australian confreres, never 
left any progeny, despite the fact that all other men and 



432 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

animals who settled in the two countries immediately 
became most extraordinarily prolific. 

The railway journey from Sydney to Melbourne is be- 
tween six and seven hundred miles and was in that day 
(1885) a most tedious one. Without my ever having met 
with any of the railway officials, they most considerately 
and courteously sent me free transportation, and more than 
that, reserved a whole compartment for Mrs. Morgan and 
myself, the guard (a conductor we should call him) being 
given orders to lock us in and not to open the door for any 
one. These instructions, faithfully carried out, caused us, 
for a time, no little inconvenience, for when the train made 
a long wait at a station and the other passengers got out to 
get refreshments and stretch their limbs, the grateful change 
was denied us, as the guard was obdurate, and insisted on 
obeying his instructions to the letter. Finally at one of the 
stations I raised such a row that a railway official who for- 
tunately was a passenger came to our compartment to find 
out what was the matter. Explanations followed and he 
persuaded our jailer to let us out amid much good-natured 
laughter at our expense. 

We found Melbourne to be a beautiful city, excelled in 
that respect possibly by only one city of its size in the world, 
and that, of course, is Washington. The city proper is only 
a mile square in dimensions and is situated on the Yarra 
Yarra River, about three miles above where that stream 
empties itself into Hobson's Bay, a great stretch of land- 
locked water which is the harbor of Melbourne, but with 
none of the picturesque beauty of Sydney Harbor. The 
city on the Yarra Yarra has many fine buildings, but they 
are devoted almost entirely to business purposes, the ma- 
jority of its population living in the picturesque suburban 
settlements which entirely surround it and where almost 
every residence is surrounded by a garden. The hand- 
somest of these suburbs, which contains many palatial 
dwellings, is called "Toorak," and naturally is the abiding- 



Sir Henry Loch, Governor of Victoria 433 

place of most of the millionaires. Being a modest man I 
took a house in South Yarra, where people of moderate 
means resided. 

My first pleasant duty was to call on Sir Henry (after- 
wards Lord) Loch, the Governor of Victoria, and personal 
representative of the Queen, to whom I showed my creden- 
tials and received his authority to act while awaiting the 
receipt of my exequatur with Queen Victoria's signature 
attached. The governor was a remarkably handsome man, 
tall, well formed, dignified, and at the same time possessed 
of most winning and courteous manners. He was that Sir 
Henry Loch who with Sir Harry Parks, while both of them 
were serving on the staff of Lord Elgin in China, were cap- 
tured under a flag of truce and most cruelly tortured. Sir 
Henry told me that he had been manacled and placed in a 
cage, and in that way had been carried through the country 
as a spectacle for the edification of the people in the interior. 
When he arrived at a town of any considerable size, for 
the amusement of the natives, the "foreign devil" as they 
called him was taken out of his cage, naked, and chained 
to the stone pavement; and among other tortures he was 
smeared with molasses so as to make him more attractive 
to the flies. Lady Loch belonged to one of the bluest- 
blooded families of the British aristocracy; she was a 
beautiful woman and looked the part of "vice-reine" 
which she so charmingly impersonated. 

Sir Henry had surrounded himself with quite a number 
of high-born young men, several of them bearing titles, 
who assisted in making the social functions at Government 
House very attractive. There was also a constant stream 
of distinguished travelers passing through Melbourne, and 
quite a number of younger sons and other sprigs of nobility 
who had come croppers at home and were seeking new 
fortunes in the land of gold, where people made fabulous 
returns from every other employment than that of digging 
for the yellow metal. 



434 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Shortly after our arrival in Melbourne we were invited 
to dine at Government House and incidentally received our 
first jar at the hands of the gorgeous flunky who, resplendent 
in the vice-regal liveries, announced the guests. In an un- 
dertone I gave him our names as Colonel and Mrs. Morgan, 
when to my horror and mortification he shouted at the top 
of his voice, "Colonel and Lady Morgan ! " And for the rest 
of our stay in Melbourne Mrs. Morgan was addressed 
generally as "Lady Morgan." 

At the dinner, the governor, who had become very 
friendly with me, laughingly asked a Mr. Calder who was 
seated near him if he was aware that a reincarnation of 
"Morgan the Buccaneer" was present. Mr. Calder replied 
that he himself had once been captured by pirates, and 
went on to describe how in 1863, when returning from Eng- 
land, the ship he was on had been stopped by the Alabama, 
and how, when the boat from the "corsair" came alongside, 
he had expected to see the typical pirate, over six feet high, 
with a huge beard, board the vessel. He was amazed to see 
an infant in uniform climb up the ladder and demand that 
the captain show him the ship's papers! I here interrupted 
by assuring him that he was mistaken about the Alabama 
having captured him, at which assertion he became very 
indignant and informed me that, as he was there, he ought 
to know what he was talking about, and added that the 
infant had told him that the name of the cruiser was Ala- 
bama. I replied that the infant had lied, and Mr. Calder 
demanded to know how I could possibly make such an 
assertion, and was dumfounded when I told him that I was 
the infant, and had been sent aboard the Australian liner 
for the purpose of telling them that our ship (the Georgia) 
was the Alabama, in the hope that in speaking other ships 
the news that the Alabama was in those waters would reach 
the American men-of-war in search of her and take them 
off of her trail while she made her way to the Indian Ocean. 
I also told Mr. Calder that while the infant midshipman 



Wonderful Australian Horsemanship 435 

was in the captain's cabin, he, Mr. Calder, had procured a 
paper bag full of cakes and two copies of the "Illustrated 
London News" and presented them to the grateful middy, 
who had not enjoyed such good things for many a long 
day. The gentleman looked amazed, and in reply to his 
unspoken question, I said, "Yes; I have grown somewhat 
in the last twenty years." 

My house in South Yarra was situated not very far from 
Government House, and Sir Henry frequently sent for me 
when anything of interest was going on there. On one occa- 
sion he invited me to see an exhibition of riding by an Aus- 
tralian, and I must say that it was the most remarkable bit of 
horsemanship I ever beheld. I have ridden with the English- 
men behind the famous "Pytchley," I have lived with the 
Texan, and sojourned with the Western cowboy, and I have 
also matched my own skill with the Bedouin Arab on his 
native desert, and there are old men still living who will bear 
testimony to my expertness in the saddle when I was young ; 
but I take off my hat to the Australian and will give him the 
palm as the best horseman in the world. The Bedouin rides 
a horse that was foaled in his master's tent ; he was always 
broken. The Englishman rides a horse that is trained 
from the time he is a yearling and who never, even in a 
nightmare, dreamed of bucking; and the cowboy, while de- 
serving all credit for his wonderful sticking abilities when 
"busting" his bronco, is after all only riding a pony who 
quickly gets tired of bucking and quits. But the Australian 
rides an entirely different animal from any of the foregoing. 
The English thoroughbred, — and there are no other kinds 
of horses in Australia, — when bred on the great stations 
(ranches), where they roam over estates of hundreds of 
square miles, not only becomes very wild, but develops into 
a buck-jumper of magnificent proportions, and furthermore 
he grows to be a much larger animal than his English ances- 
tor. It also must be remembered that the Australian rides 
a plain English saddle without pommel or cantle. 



436 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

When I arrived at Government House on this occasion, I 
found Sir Henry Loch and two other gentlemen waiting in 
the paddock; one of these was the Honorable Robert Boyle, 
a younger son of the Earl of Cork, and the other was that 
Sir George Tryon, commander of the fleet in Australian 
waters at that time, who afterwards lost his life when the 
collision occurred in the Mediterranean between the battle- 
ships the Camperdown and the Victoria. 

The horse to be ridden was a big bay nearly seventeen 
hands high and powerful in proportion. He was eight years 
old and had never had even a rope on him before that day. 
He had been driven in a "mob" of horses from the station 
where he was bred, and now was in a narrow trap into 
which he had been forced by the use of a portable fence. 
In this pen of strong timbers the frightened and frantic 
creature had, for the first time in his life, a snaffle bit forced 
into his mouth and a saddle girthed to his back. It was 
also while confined in this way that the Australian, a 
splendid-looking specimen of a man, mounted him, and as 
though by magic the impromptu stall tumbled apart and 
the struggles of the horse to get rid of the man, and of the 
man to stay on the horse, commenced. The enraged crea- 
ture suddenly lowered his head until it was between his 
knees and then leaped into the air perpendicularly and came 
down on the same spot stiff-legged; then he jumped side- 
ways to the left, followed by a spring to the right, and with 
the quickness of a cat he plunged forward and then back- 
ward ; and before the onlookers could catch their breath he 
had whirled around several times with such lightning-like 
rapidity that it made every one dizzy to watch him ; he then 
began to squeal and dashed off in a mad race around the 
paddock, only interrupted by frequent^ stops to indulge in 
buck-jumping and whirls. During the whole of this per- 
formance the Australian calmly kept his seat as though he 
was a part of the frantic animal. This exhibition of rough 
riding came near ending in a tragedy. The horse by leaps 



Wonderful Australian Horsemanship 437 

and bounds finally approached within eight or ten feet of 
the stout board fence which enclosed the paddock, and then 
he leaped into the air and threw his body, broadside on, 
against it! Horse, man, and fence went down with a crash, 
and for a moment there was indescribable confusion as 
amidst the flying planks the horse rolled completely over 
his rider, recovered his feet, and continued his acrobatic 
feats; but to his evident astonishment his mad attempt at 
murder and suicide had not budged the Australian from his 
saddle. 

Sir Henry Loch ordered the performance stopped at once; 
saying that he could not allow the sacrifice of the life of one 
of Her Majesty's subjects simply to show two sailors what 
real horsemanship was. But the Australian did not take the 
same view, and begged, almost with tears, to be allowed to 
stay where he was until the horse gave up the fight, saying 
that if he dismounted then, no living human being would 
ever be able to ride that horse again. But Sir Henry was 
firm, and the show was over. 



CHAPTER LII 

Impecunious globe-trotters — Consular courts — Become skipper of a 
water-logged bark against my wishes — A captain claims a dollar a day for 
tuition in the culinary art — For obeying my instructions an Australian court 
mulcts me for five hundred dollars, holding that despite my exequatur I am 
only a commercial agent — Grocer's assistant gets quite a large fortune — 
Many supposed dead men live in the South Sea Islands — Blackbirders. 

Were I an habitual office-holder I would describe my 
duties at the consulate-general as onerous and myself as 
the only man who could possibly perform them. But such 
was not the fact. The only line of American steamers came 
to the port of Sydney, and only a small quantity of wool 
was shipped to the United States from Melbourne. At rare 
intervals an American sailing ship, generally a dilapidated, 
bluff-bowed old "water-bruiser," would limp into Hobson's 
Bay, either loaded with lumber or in ballast, and from there 
go to Newcastle, New South Wales, for a cargo of coal, and 
the business of these vessels did not occupy much time. Of 
course I was harassed by impecunious "globe-trotters," 
who would insist that as consul I had in my keeping a large 
fund, furnished by the Government, for the purpose of pay- 
ing their passages to the next point of interest they proposed 
to visit, and failing that, as a man and a brother, my con- 
science should compel me to supply the means out of my 
own pocket. At rare intervals it was necessary to hold a 
consular court, either to take testimony in some lawsuit 
pending before the courts at home, or to decide some ques- 
tion between an American captain and his crew. One case 
of this kind was when a captain demanded that I should 
discharge his crew for him without pay on account of their 
mutinous conduct, and the counter-charge of the crew that 
the ship had been sent out from the home port in ballast for 
the purpose of having her wrecked so as to collect the insur- 
ance money, and that it was because they would not allow 



Duties as Consul-General 439 

the skipper to scuttle her that he made the charge of mutiny 
against them. I decided in favor of the crew and ordered 
them paid off, but the skipper said he had no money, and 
when I told him that I would not clear his ship with a new 
crew until he did pay them, the skipper skipped, leaving his 
unseaworthy old bark on my hands, and the port authorities 
made life miserable for me until she was finally beached to 
keep her from sinking in the harbor. 

The captains of some of these Pacific sailing tramp ships 
were a hard lot, who were so mean that they not only ill- 
treated their crews and gave them scant rations, but to save 
the expense of oil actually carried no lights at night, much 
to the danger of other vessels as well as their own. One of 
these fellows, whose crew I discharged, had borrowed the 
savings of his negro cook amounting to a hundred dollars, 
but when it came to a settlement both loan and wages were 
wiped out by the captain's counterclaim for broken crock- 
ery, dishes spoiled in the cooking, and a charge of one dollar 
a day for tuition in the culinary art during the whole time 
the man had been on board of his ship. He pretended to be 
indignant when I would not allow this fraud to pass. 

I had a personal experience with one of the Australian 
courts of justice which was temporarily both costly and un- 
pleasant. The circumstances were as follows: There re- 
sided in a handsome villa in a fashionable suburb a woman 
who was always expensively dressed and who, despite her 
dissipated appearance, still showed signs of once having been 
beautiful and refined. I was told that her house was richly 
furnished and contained costly paintings and marble statues 
besides other objects of art, etc. Every three months a bill 
of exchange for a large amount came to the consulate from 
a city in New England, with instructions that it was to be 
given into the hands of this woman and her receipt taken 
therefor. This went on for a long time until one day, after 
the arrival of the American mail, she did not put in an 
appearance at the consulate. I sent word to her that her 



440 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

money had arrived, but for some time afterward received 
no reply, until one morning, a very "cheeky" young man 
bounced into my office and informed me that he was the 
assistant of the grocer who supplied the woman with provi- 
sions, and that he had come for her check, at the same time 
insinuating that there was no use in my denying it, as he 
knew I had the money. Naturally I declined to entrust the 
valuable piece of paper to the keeping of this individual, 
much to his indignation. A few days afterward he returned 
and told me that the lady was very ill and must have the 
money at once. Again I declined to part with it, when the 
fellow angrily said: "Well, anyhow, she is going to die to- 
morrow and then I will show you who will get the money.** 
I asked him how he dared say that any one was going to die 
to-morrow or any other day, but he only repeated his asser- 
tion. The very next day he again made his appearance and, 
with a broad grin on his vulgar face, exclaimed: "She is 
dead ! I told you so ! And now I will show you who is going 
to get the money." 

I sent the consular clerk at once to the house with in- 
structions that, if the report that the woman was dead was 
true, he was to place the seal of the consulate upon all 
of her effects, as I was required to do by the consular in- 
structions. This was done; and I immediately called on the 
doctor who had attended the dead woman during her last 
illness. I found him in a very indignant frame of mind con- 
cerning the case. He told me that his patient had died from 
alcoholism, and that despite his instructions that under no 
circumstances should she be allowed to touch spirits of any 
kind, the grocer's assistant had surreptitiously kept her sup- 
plied with the brandy which had caused her death. 

When I had made sure of the woman's death I placed 
the bill of exchange in a sealed envelope, directed to the 
person who had sent the money, and dropped the missive 
into the post-office with my own hand ; and well it was that 
I did so, for no sooner were the obsequies over than the 



Lost Men in the South Sea Islands 441 

grocer's assistant filed a will signed by the unfortunate de- 
ceased in due legal form, making him sole legatee as well as 
executor of her estate. He then came in haste to me and de- 
manded that I surrender to him the bill of exchange, and his 
impotent rage when I told him that I had returned it to its 
rightful owner was a sight to see. But the fellow got even 
with me. He sued me personally for trespass and demanded 
damages. My lawyer thought it would only be necessary for 
me to produce my book of instructions from my Government 
to convince the court that I had acted legally, but the gro- 
cer's clerk employed a smarter lawyer, who made the point 
that there was not and never had been a consular treaty be- 
tween Great Britain and the United States, and that conse- 
quently, at most, I could only be regarded by the court as a 
commercial agent, with none of the prerogatives of a consul. 
The judge who presided at the trial was an Irishman who 
had formerly been a policeman in New York: he mulcted me 
for fifty pounds sterling for damages besides fifty pounds for 
costs, making five hundred dollars outside of my lawyer's 
fee! 

Of course I reported the matter to the State Department, 
which took scant notice of my protest, and I will maintain 
with my dying breath that, unless such a treaty has been 
made since that time, no official act of an American or 
British consul in either country is or has ever been legal. 

After Mr. Blaine became Secretary of State I related the 
above facts to my friend Walker Blaine, his son, who 
brought the matter to the attention of his father with the 
result that the five hundred dollars was refunded to me. 

The South Sea Islands have a singular fascination for some 
people. There are many men, whose families at home have 
long since mourned them as dead, who to-day are alive 
and well enjoying the care-free life and dolce far niente of 
that dream-compelling climate. I heard of one such man 
who had been for many years a dweller on one of the islands, 
and was told that he was a one-legged man and that his 



442 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

name was Proctor. It so happened that I had had a school- 
mate by the name of Proctor who had lost a leg at the first 
battle of Manassas. He was a nephew of General Beaure- 
gard, and after he returned to his home in New Orleans, 
after the Civil War, he found that a young lady with whom 
he was deeply enamoured had married some one else, and 
Proctor disappeared, not to be heard of again for many 
years. 

I started inquiries about this man Proctor, and was in- 
formed that he was living with the natives and in sore 
trouble on account of his artificial leg having worn out. I 
also heard a strange story connected with that same leg, 
which was that on one occasion when Proctor and a boat's 
crew had landed on the beach of one of the islands, they 
were suddenly set upon by cannibals. It was a case of 
sauve qui peict, and the rest of the crew left Proctor to his 
fate as they took flight toward the place where they had left 
their boat. Proctor could not run, but nothing daunted he 
sat down on the beach and deliberately unfastened his arti- 
ficial leg, intending to use it as a weapon and sell his life as 
dearly as possible. The cannibals, seeing a man unhitching 
his limbs, took fright and scampered back into the bush 
leaving Proctor unharmed. I soon learned that this same 
man was the friend of my boyhood, and I wrote him a letter 
asking him to come to Melbourne and also sent him money 
to come with. When he arrived in Melbourne I took him to 
my home and gave him employment in the consulate. 

Proctor told me many of his adventures and of his strange 
life among the South Sea islanders who, when they are not 
cannibals, are most hospitable and the kindliest people in 
the world. Shortly after his first arrival in Australia neces- 
sity compelled him to accept the first offer of a job that was 
made him and this was to take command of a " blackbirder." 
A " blackbirder " was nothing more or less than a slaver, but 
the word "slave-owner" horrifies our British cousins too 
much to allow of its use in their presence. Proctor, and 



Blackbirders 443 

many others in the trade, only took their ships to promising 
islands and, anchoring offshore, tempted, at first, one or two 
of the more venturesome of the suspicious natives to come 
on board: these pioneers were shown many colored beads, 
gaudy handkerchiefs, and tinsel, and then they were allowed 
to return to their friends to tell of the wondrous store of 
what they considered wealth the ship contained. Finally, 
impelled by curiosity, the king or chief would go on board, 
and the rest was easy. He was shown the coveted articles 
on the upper deck, and then was promised a number of them 
if he would induce the ablest of his young men to come on 
board. Once on the ship they were invited to go below and 
see greater wonders still, and while they would be admiring 
the gaudy trifles, the hatches would be suddenly closed, 
and the " blackbirder " would sail away for Queensland 
where the sugar planters were eagerly waiting for them. 
They were not sold into slavery, — oh, no! that is too 
horrid a word ; but those poor devils, who could neither read 
nor write, nor yet speak English, signed contracts to work 
on the plantations and in return for their labor received a 
few strings of beads and three or four bandanna hand- 
kerchiefs. The Government allowed them to be contracted 
for a term of only three years, and there was a clause in 
the document requiring their return at the expiration of that 
time. This clause was faithfully lived up to by the planters, 
and possibly the same ship which had brought them took 
them back to the chain of islands, which all look wonder- 
fully alike. The natives were told by the captain to point 
out their particular island and they would be landed. But 
few would risk it, as, if they made a mistake and put foot 
on the wrong island, they would be killed and eaten before 
the ship which had brought them sailed out of sight. Con- 
sequently the unfortunates preferred to return to their 
drudgery than to take such risks. 

It might be asked where the profit to the ship came in. 
Well, it is said that there are cabins de luxe on the transat- 



444 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

lantic liners which cost a thousand dollars a trip, and while 
not quite so luxurious, the price of a passage from the 
islands to Queensland for a cannibal was proportionately 
high for the accommodations furnished, and the planter had 
to pay this before he got his "nigger." 

Proctor remained with me for two months, and then the 
"call from Cathay" became too strong for him to resist, 
and he returned to his queer friends, who knew not what 
labor meant, nor the need of clothes, and to whom Nature 
supplied cocoanuts, fruit, and fish which amply supplied 
their wants. 

In reading this account of the doings of the "black- 
birders," as recounted to me by Proctor, it must be re- 
membered that I am writing about a state of affairs which 
existed forty or more years ago, and that the Government 
of Queensland even in my time (1885-89) had put a stop to 
much of the injustice of the trade. 

Ten or fifteen years after I had returned to the United 
States, I learned that Proctor had come home to New 
Orleans, found the sweetheart of his youth a widow, and 
married her. 



CHAPTER LIII 

Vast estates — Australian hospitality — Kangaroo hunting — The dingo 

— Rabbits in myriads — Aborigines — Marriage customs — Black trackers 

— Black swans — No songbirds, but many curious birds — The "laughing 
jackass" always gets a laugh when he tells a funny story — The "Orni- 
thoryncus." 

While in Australia I visited several of the large stations 
(as the ranches are called), many of them comprising sev- 
eral hundreds of square miles of land, whereon thousands of 
cattle, horses, and sheep grazed at will : that is, they grazed 
at that time wherever the rabbits had left any verdure for 
them to feed upon. 

The owners of the vast estates possessed every comfort 
that money could procure, and they wanted for nothing 
except social intercourse with their equals. Owing to their 
great holdings of land frequently the nearest neighbor lived 
thirty or more miles away, and a visitor was generally re- 
ceived with open arms. They were a most hospitable people 
and joyously "welcomed the coming guest," but were loath 
to "speed the parting one." 

One of the greatest amusements at the stations was the 
kangaroo hunt, for which sport they had bred a special dog 
very much resembling the great English staghound. An 
Australian would no more shoot a kangaroo than an Eng- 
lishman would a fox. I went on several of these hunts, which 
take place very frequently, as the singular beast feeds on 
the grass needed for sheep. In the daytime the animal is 
to be found only on the tops of the hills, where he can easily 
see the approach of a possible enemy. 

One morning I went out with a party of gentlemen and 
employees of the estate, and with field-glasses located a num- 
ber of kangaroos. We passed around the foot of the hill 
until we got well to leeward and then commenced the 



446 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ascent. We were well on top of the hill before we were 
discovered and the animals took fright. They started down 
the incline with marvelous speed, their extraordinary leaps 
covering forty or more feet at each bound, and the jumps 
following each other with such astounding rapidity as fairly 
to daze the onlooker. 

I was mounted on a race-horse called "Post Boy," be- 
longing to my host, which was noted for speed, he having won 
a valuable cup only a month prior to the time of our hunt. 
Putting the spurs to our horses, we fairly flew after the flee- 
ing kangaroos, but no horse, no matter what his speed, 
can keep up with one of these animals going downhill. 
When we reached the level ground, however, we gained 
rapidly, and then I saw a singular sight. The horsemen had 
their stirrup leathers so arranged that they could easily be 
unfastened from the saddle, and when we reached the level 
ground they unfastened one, swinging the iron stirrup 
around their heads as a cowboy would a lasso. Each man 
went in chase of a particular kangaroo, and when he ranged 
alongside of the poor beast, with unerring aim he laid the 
creature low with a single blow. The kangaroo's most tender 
spot is the head, so tender, in fact, that the aboriginals kill 
it easily with the light boomerang. 

One kangaroo, when he got tired, stopped in the open, and 
a jockey, a boy of sixteen, leaped from his horse and run- 
ning around the poor creature, to avoid its death-dealing 
kick, he seized it from behind, and then commenced a most 
interesting wrestling-bout, for the kangaroo turned In the 
boy's embrace and they had a grand struggle until one of 
the horsemen arrived and gave the brute a coup de grace with 
his stirrup. After the mel6e it was found that the boy had 
been quite badly bitten on the shoulder. 

Another kangaroo, when he came to a huge and dead 
eucalyptus tree, placed his back against it and faced his 
foes, the first of whom to reach him was a large hound, and 
as the dog leaped for his throat the kangaroo raised one of his 



The Rabbit Pest 447 

powerful hind legs and with a swift blow disemboweled the 
hound as cleverly as though the operation had been per- 
formed with a butcher's cleaver. 

I also participated in a dingo hunt. This cowardly brute 
is the only carnivorous animal indigenous to Australia. He 
is red in color and is a species of wild dog, resembling in his 
habits and appearance our own despised coyote. I was told 
that a single dingo in one night would kill as many as fifty 
sheep merely for the love of slaughter. 

I saw, too, while at these stations the ravages committed 
by the rabbits. These little creatures are not indigenous, 
but are the offspring of a half-dozen which were imported 
by a gentleman for the purpose of making his lawn look 
more like home, as even the Australians who have never 
visited the mother country call England. The rabbits on 
arriving in Australia changed many of their habits, and 
instead of breeding only once or twice a year and produc- 
ing only two young at a time, they began to breed when 
only a month old, giving birth to four or six at a litter, and 
producing a new litter every month, until the country was 
overrun by them, and lands which had supported thousands 
of sheep became as bare as if a fire had swept over them, 
the rabbits having fed upon even the roots of the grass. I 
saw one stretch of country where there were so many of these 
creatures that the ground seemed to be in motion, so close 
were they together. The ravages were so serious that a 
bounty was paid by the Government for rabbit scalps, and 
thousands of pounds were offered for an invention that 
would rid the country of the pest. Miles of rabbit-proof 
fencing was put up and an attempt made to kill all the 
vermin within the enclosure, but it was discovered that when 
the men engaged in the exterminating process found rab- 
bits getting scarce, rather than lose their jobs they would 
throw a few pair over the fence so as to secure a new supply. 

I sent a report to the State Department describing the 
ruin the rabbits had wrought, and in it stated that one pair 



448 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

of rabbits in three years would, through their progeny, pro- 
duce two millions of bunnies. The newspapers got hold of 
this report and made great fun of me. It was suggested that 
I revise my figures, and in reply I sent them the report of 
the government statistician from which I had procured my 
information on the subject, in which it appeared that an 
experiment had been made by segregating one pair of the 
little animals in an enclosure so arranged that they could 
not burrow out of it and no other rabbits could get to them. 
After a time, when the enclosure could hold no more, a 
simple calculation, made by multiplication, gave the above 
result. 

I saw many strange sights in this land, where the trees do 
not lose their leaves, but do shed their bark, and one of the 
weirdest sights was to pass through a forest of eucalyptus 
trees which had been belted so that grass for sheep would 
grow at their roots, and watch the flocks of white cockatoos 
flying from dead branch to dead branch, and on the ground 
an* "old man" kangaroo, at least six feet in height, looking 
very uncanny, as with extraordinary leaps and bounds he 
fled from the approach of man. 

I saw also great fern trees, of the same species we place 
in jardinieres, whose leaves were fifteen or twenty feet in 
length. 

I visited a camp of the aborigines, those strange black 
people, with long and silky hair, who are classed as the lowest 
specimens of the human race. At night the spectacle of 
the camp was most attractive, as the ground seemed to be 
sprinkled with tiny lights. The aboriginal says that when 
a man's stomach is warm, it is all that is necessary in cold 
weather, and each member of the tribe builds his own in- 
dividual little fire of twigs afifording a small flame not much 
larger than that of a candle, and getting his belly close to it, 
and his body forming a half-circle around it, after his day 
of hunting he comfortably sleeps. 

The Australian opossum, which has a fine fur as well as 



The Australian Aborigines 449 

a bushy tail, is the mainstay of the native's existence, fur- 
nishing him with meat and the little clothes which he 
wears only in cold weather. The aborigines climb to great 
heights on the giant dead trees, which have limbs only near 
their tops, by cutting with their tomahawks notches in 
which they insert their big toes. I saw one of these fellows, 
at least fifty feet from the ground, stop, and with his hatchet 
dig out of the dead tree a worm at least six inches long and 
as big around as my first finger, and, horrible to relate, he 
opened his mouth and swallowed the slimy thing. 

The way the men get wives is rather unique. Only in 
exceptional cases do they take women of their own tribe for 
mates, and as every tribe is constantly at war with all their 
neighbors it would seem that the race must die out but for 
a custom of hunting in three parties, the men in one, the 
married women in another, and the young girls of marriage- 
able age forming a third. The object of the hunt, besides the 
obtaining of food, is to capture the young women of their 
enemies. When they do marry in their own tribes the cere- 
mony is very striking. After the bargain with the girl's 
father is completed and the required number of opossum 
skins paid, the bride takes up a position just outside of her 
parent's hut, and alone waits there. She has not long to 
wait, for the groom to be is watching. As soon as he sees her 
in her proper place, he seizes his war club, walks to where 
she is standing, raises his weapon, and bats her over the 
head, knocking her senseless. He then picks up her body, 
puts it on his shoulder, carries her to his own hut — and 
the ceremony is over. The object of hitting her on the head 
is said to be for the purpose of showing her who is going to 
be boss in the future. When an attempt is made to civilize 
these people, they quickly become victims of tuberculosis 
and die. 

Many of these aborigines are employed by the rural police 
to assist in the capture of escaped prisoners, or to find peo- 
ple who become lost in the "bush," as the back country is 



450 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

called. Those used in this service are called "black track- 
ers," and besides their marvelous woodcraft they possess 
a keen faculty of scent unsurpassed by even that of a hound 
dog, and it is said that no prisoner who ever attempted to 
escape into the bush has ever been able to elude them, and 
they never fail to bring back those travelers who have lost 
their way. 

I went also to the lake whereon the black swans breed, and 
was surprised to find that their young were white. The morn- 
ing after my arrival there I was awakened by the sound of 
myriads of little tinkling silver bells, and was amazed to find 
that the sweet music came from the throats of numberless 
little "bell" birds no bigger than my thumb. 

I also saw in my travels into the interior of the country 
those remarkable cranes called the "companion birds," 
which live in flocks on marshy ground and when alarmed 
form quadrille sets and dance. Really they appear to be 
going through the figures of the "lancers," a dance very 
popular fifty years ago. 

There are no native songbirds, but the Australian magpie 
learns to talk with great facility, and his voice is much more 
human than that of the average parrot. The magpies which 
nest near human habitations often repeat the words they 
hear children use while at play, and when miles away from 
any settlement the stranger, riding alone through the bush, 
feels rather a creepy sensation when he is told by an invisi- 
ble and almost human voice to "leave something alone," or 
receives an invitation "to play." These birds when nesting 
are very savage and will attack a man who even passes near 
the tree where their nests are. I once saw a man who had 
had his face and neck terribly lacerated and his cap torn to 
shreds by a couple of them. 

The ugly "lyre" or "bower" bird, with the beautiful tail 
whose feathers form a very good imitation of a lyre, is also 
something of a mimic, and by making sounds resembling the 
chopping of wood, or the squeaking of wagon wheels, he 



Curious Australun Birds 451 

entices the weary traveler (who about sundown is searching 
for a place to camp) from the trail, and the trails are so 
faintly marked that, once departed from, the wayfarer is 
lost ; worse than that, he will never find the water he im- 
agined must be near the camp whose sounds had been imi- 
tated by the bird. One of the peculiarities of the lyre bird 
is that he is somewhat of a landscape gardener, and makes 
himself quite a pretty bower in which he places all sorts of 
bright-colored pebbles. Why he builds the bower, unless it 
is for a playground, has never been explained, as the bird 
builds its nest, and deposits its eggs, in entirely different 
places. 

The "laughing jackass" is an unfailing source of amuse- 
ment to the natives as well as to strangers. This brownish 
bird is about the size of a small pigeon, and consists mostly 
of a head which is larger than his body and ridiculous little 
tail combined. His bill is shaped like that of a duck, and 
his laugh is infectious. About sundown a dozen or more of 
them can be seen sitting on the dead limb of a tree near 
some barn, and one of them will begin to croon as though he 
were telling his friends a funny story, and when he evi- 
dently reaches the point of the joke, the others burst into 
hilarious laughter sounding wonderfully like the mirth of a 
lot of aged men. The laughing jackass is protected by law, 
as he not only is a good scavenger, but he is also a good 
ratter and mouser. He is, too, the deadly enemy of snakes, 
of which there is no non-poisonous variety in Australia. He 
soars high in the air when hunting for reptiles, and when 
he espies his prey he lets himself fall out of the skies and 
comes tumbling down in the same manner that a pelican 
does when fishing, only the laughing jackass hits solid 
ground instead of yielding water, and the sound of his little 
body hitting the earth can be heard quite a distance away. 
When he rises in the air again the snake can be seen dan- 
gling from his talons while in small circles the bird attains 
a great height. When he decides that he has reached the 



452 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

proper altitude for his purpose, he lets the snake drop and 
comes tumbling down after it, at the same time giving 
utterance to screams of laughter. This performance is re- 
peated until the reptile is dead. I had one of these birds in 
my garden as a pet, and every time I passed by him he 
laughed at me until I became quite sensitive on the subject 
of his disrespectful conduct. 

But the most wonderful bird (or should I call it animal?) 
of Australia is the " Ornithoryncus " or "Platibus," as it is 
commonly called. This strange creature has a body formed 
somewhat like that of a small beaver. Its fur is of almost as 
fine a texture as that of a seal. It has the bill of a duck and 
its four feet are webbed and shaped like those of a duck. It 
lays eggs, and is amphibious ! 



CHAPTER LIV 

Sir Henry Loch gives a fancy-dress ball in honor of the Queen's Jubilee — 
The Melbourne Exhibition — Return to America via Suez Canal — Visit to the 
"Isle of France" (Mauritius) — Paul and Virginia must have sat down hard 
— Return to Melbourne — Secretary of State appoints a naval officer to take 
charge of appropriation for American exhibit — First World's Fair Commis- 
sion ever to turn back a balance into the Treasury — Receive a medal — 
Leave Australia — Authorize captain of the Mariposa to return to Sydney — 
Samoans as swimmers — Resign. 

With the year 1887 came the preparations and festivi- 
ties for the celebration of Queen Victoria's Jubilee, which 
were opened at Government House by one of the grandest 
fancy-dress balls that had ever taken place in Australia. 
All of the costumes of the dealers were engaged long before 
the great event, and even the theatres closed their doors 
that night because the actors had no costumes left, as the 
management had lent them all to swells who wanted to 
attend the ball. I was one of those who could not procure 
a fancy dress from either costumer or theatre, but not will- 
ing to acknowledge myself beaten, I went home and brought 
out a Mexican sombrero, serape, and a pair of brass spurs 
which I had kept since the days I was in Mexico, and these, 
with a pair of black trousers slashed up the side from foot 
to knee and trimmed with gold lace, a piece of clothes-line 
for a lasso, and some long false hair hanging from the 
sombrero to below my shoulders, made me a very good imi- 
tation of the Mexican vaquero or cowboy. My get-up was pro- 
nounced the success of the evening, and I was followed by a 
throng of the curious who wanted to know what character 
I represented, what the lasso was for, and why I wore spurs 
with rowels as big as silver dollars and with bells on them. 

Some time previous to this ball, at the solicitation of Sir 
Henry Loch, I had recommended to the State Department 
the advisability of an appropriation for an American ex- 
hibit at the great World's Fair which was shortly to take 



454 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

place in Melbourne, and Congress had appropriated the 
necessary money. 

The health of my wife, never very good, about this time 
became so bad that her attending physicians advised me to 
lose no time in taking her home. We took passage on a French 
steamer and returned home via the Suez Canal, stopping 
on the way at Adelaide, South Australia, Mauritius, or 
Isle of France, Reunion, which in the days of the French 
monarchy was known as the "Isle de Bourbon," the Sey- 
chelles Islands, Aden, in Arabia, Suez, and from thence 
through the Mediterranean to Messina, and, passing be- 
tween Corsica and Sardinia, disembarked at Marseilles, 
from which place we went to the Riviera. 

I must mention that while at Mauritius we visited 
the wonderful Botanic Gardens, and the attendant who 
accompanied us through the grounds, with a perfectly 
straight face pointed out the identical stone bench upon 
which "Paul and Virginia" had sat! They must have sat 
a long time judging from the two hollows worn in the stone. 

From the Riviera we went to Paris, and after a short stay 
proceeded to Havre, where we took a French steamer, and 
after a most boisterous voyage arrived in New York at the 
commencement of the great blizzard of March, 1888. 

In April, 1888, I had to return to Australia, via San 
Francisco, alone, but before doing so I went to Washington 
to pay my respects to the President and to the Secretary of 
State. Mr. Cleveland, of course, was very courteous ; I ex- 
pected that; but I was greatly surprised at the cordiality 
with which Mr. Bayard received me; in fact, he became quite 
confidential during the interview and impressed upon me 
the necessity of trying to curb the extravagance of the com- 
missioners to the exhibition, of whom I was one {ex officio), 
recently appointed to represent the country at the Mel- 
bourne World's Fair. He told me that "these commissions 
had become a stench in the nostrils of the nation, as it was 
their custom to throw away the money they were authorized 



The World's Fair at Melbourne 455 

to expend, and then come back to Congress for another ap- 
propriation to pay the bills with." I suggested that if he 
would put the funds into the hands of a naval officer, ac- 
customed to disbursing large sums of money, this danger 
might be easily avoided. Mr. Bayard seized upon the idea 
with avidity, and asked me to accompany him to the office 
of the Secretary of the Navy. On our way through the cor- 
ridors I saw Lieutenant Marix, and told the Secretary that 
this officer had recently been at Melbourne in the sloop-of- 
war Enterprise, and Mr. Bayard asked me to introduce him. 
In a few minutes the Secretary of the Navy had ordered Mr. 
Marix to report for special duty to the Secretary of State. 
The result of this appointment was not only a success, but 
it also was very amusing. 

When the commissioners reached Melbourne, all business 
men, having private axes to grind, they proceeded to busi- 
ness at once and held a meeting, to which I was not in- 
vited, and decided that they would divide the appropriation 
into as many parts as there were commissioners, and that 
each one should take charge of a special department, and 
be responsible for his share of the money. That being set- 
tled, they called on me with a demand that I turn the 
funds over to them. I never saw a madder set of men than 
they were when I told them that I had nothing to do with 
the money, and that it was not only not in my keeping, 
but in that of a naval officer, who, acting under the 
orders of the Secretary of State, would attend to the dec- 
oration of the hall and arrangement of the exhibit as well as 
the disbursement of all funds, and save them all trouble in 
that respect. But the result was that, for the first time 
in the history of American commissions to world fairs, every 
bill was paid and a large balance returned to the United 
States Treasury! 

As an exhibition the World's Fair at Melbourne was a 
great success, but unfortunately the Australians became 
possessed of a craze for real estate speculation. The price 



456 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

of land, miles from the City Hall, was run up to fabulous 
prices, the purchasers never stopping to inquire where the 
necessary population was to come from to build on the lots 
for which they paid so dearly. The madness dimmed the 
business vision of all classes, with the result that when the 
exhibition closed and the strangers went home, there fol- 
lowed a panic which brought ruin to thousands of unfortu- 
nately credulous people of moderate means as well as to 
some of the wealthiest families in the country. 

After the fair was over, through the United States State 
Department, I received a most artistic and beautiful medal 
in recognition of my endeavors to promote the success of 
the undertaking. 

In September, 1888, I left Australia on the steamship 
Mariposa (Spanish for "butterfly") bound for San Fran- 
cisco. It was Incky for the captain that I was on board, for 
when we arrived at Auckland, New Zealand, he received a 
cablegram urging him to return to Sydney to take command 
of one of the company's ships the captain of which had 
met with some accident. This could not be done without 
the consent of the consul-general, as the vessel was under 
the American flag. After consultation with the captain 
and mate, and having satisfied myself that the latter had 
a master's certificate, and was in every way competent, I 
took this grave responsibility on myself and allowed the 
captain to leave. 

At the island of Tutuila, one of the Samoan group, I wit- 
nessed a thrilling and most interesting sight. A schooner 
from Apia always met the steamer at Tutuila with the mail 
for the United States. We passed her a hawser and unfortu- 
nately it slacked up and became entangled in our propeller. 
The sea was smooth and the water was very clear, permit- 
ting us to see down to quite a depth. Around the vessels 
were several canoes filled with natives, both men and women 
being as naked as the day they were born. A dozen or more 



The Samoans as Swimmers 457 

had come on board of the steamer bringing fans, sea beans, 
and other trifles to sell. Our captain offered to pay the men 
if they would dive down and cut the hawser free from the 
screw. They jumped at the chance of making a little easy 
money, and being supplied with knives, they plunged over- 
board, one at a time, and proceeded to saw away on the 
heavy cable. They seemed to be able to stay below the sur- 
face for an extraordinary length of time, and as fast as one 
man would come to the surface another would go down and 
continue the work. Suddenly those of us who were watch- 
ing the performance were horrified to see two immense 
sharks approach the man at work. The attention of the cap- 
tain, who had spent many years on the Pacific, was called 
to the monsters. The captain only laughed, and said that 
if the Samoan was a white man he would already have been 
eaten, but, he added, "Sharks are not cannibals, and they 
won't harm their brother who is half fish himself." The 
sequel proved the captain to be right, for while we stood 
at the taffrail anxiously watching the terrors of the sea, one 
of the sharks approached the man at work, and was so near 
to him that he appeared to be smelling him, and the only 
notice the Samoan took of the great fish was to put his 
hand on its nose and shove it away. 

As soon as the mail bags were safely on board, and the 
screw was freed from its entanglement, we proceeded at full 
speed. The native canoes made no attempt to follow us, 
and the Samoans on our ship's deck seemed perfectly un- 
concerned as they stood patiently waiting for a purchaser 
for their wares. They asked no one to buy, and accepted 
any money offered and gleefully parted with their property. 
The ship was making about fourteen knots and Tutuila, 
although a high island, was fast sinking out of sight behind 
the horizon, when first one and then another of the "men 
fish" looked toward his home. Quietly laying their wares 
on the deck they deliberately walked to the rail and dived, 
head first, into the sea. By this time we must have been 



458 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

some eight or more miles from land, and on my expressing 
some anxiety about the islanders, the captain assured me 
that they ran no risk, as they were perfectly capable of re- 
maining in the water for forty-eight hours! 

When I rejoined my wife in Washington, D.C., she was in 
such bad health that I decided it would be impossible for 
her to return to Australia, so I decided to resign the consul- 
generalship. I called on the President and made known my 
decision to him and was somewhat surprised when he re- 
quested me to postpone sending in my resignation until I 
heard further from him, and at the same time cautioned me 
not to mention my intention to any one, as the news would 
cause a host of applicants for the place to assemble in Wash- 
ington to present their claims to the appointment before he 
was ready to name my successor, and that would cause him 
much inconvenience. A month later he signified to me that 
the proper time had arrived. I regretted very much that 
family reasons necessitated my giving up the lucrative and 
congenial office, as I liked Australia and the Australians 
very much, and although a Republican administration was 
about to come into power, I could have retained the place 
for another four years under President Harrison, who had 
been a classmate and intimate friend of two of my brothers 
at Miami University, Ohio. The family intimacy dated from 
before the days of the Revolution and had always been main- 
tained, and besides this kindly feeling, Mrs. Harrison, who 
was a Miss Scott, was named for one of my father's sisters. 
Then, too, Mr. Blaine, who was to succeed Mr. Bayard as 
Secretary of State, was a good friend of mine, and his son. 
Walker, who was also to occupy a position of influence in the 
Department, was one of my intimates. Mr. Cleveland ap- 
pointed as my successor, Mr. Lesesne, of Charleston, South 
Carolina, who met with a tragic fate before he had been 
very long in Australia. His body was found floating in 
Sydney Harbor. 



CHAPTER LV 

" Cedarcroft " — Death of Captain Dawson — Ten years on a farm — Va- 
garies of the genus horse — Australian fox terriers. 

When my daughter Frederica was born, both she and 
her mother were so delicate that I was advised to take them 
into the country, one of the doctors telling me frankly that 
it was the best thing to do, but that he doubted if either of 
them would be alive in six weeks. I bought a farm called 
"Cedarcroft," near Gaithersburg, Maryland, and moved my 
little family there and never had cause to regret it, as the 
open-air life restored both wife and child to health. 

We had hardly got comfortably settled on the farm when 
I was summoned by telegraph to Charleston, South Caro- 
lina, as a most horrible tragedy had occurred there result- 
ing in the death of my dear friend and brother-in-law, Cap- 
tain Francis Warrington Dawson, editor of the Charleston 
"News and Courier." My sister, Mrs. Dawson, was in the 
habit of making frequent visits to Europe, and on one of 
these trips she had brought back with her a very pretty 
Swiss nursemaid. Just around the corner from where Cap- 
tain Dawson lived was the home of a Dr. McDow and his 
family. The back yards of the two houses adjoined each 
other. One day the nursemaid complained to Captain Daw- 
son that whenever she went out with his children Dr. 
McDow accosted her on the streets and forced his atten- 
tions on her, and that she wanted a stop put to the an- 
noyance. Captain Dawson was very indignant, and said 
that he was going to see McDow and forbid him speaking to 
the girl again while she was accompanying his children. He 
was seen to enter McDow's office, which was on the ground 
floor of his residence, but Captain Dawson never came 
out again alive. What actually happened in that office 



460 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

only Dr. McDow knew. He was alone in the house, as his 
family was absent at the time. At his trial the doctor testi- 
fied that Dawson came into the office, where he, McDow, 
was seated at his desk, and not only used abusive language, 
but raised his cane to strike him, and that he, McDow, in 
self-defense, seized a pistol which was lying in an open 
drawer at his right hand, and fired, with the result that 
Captain Dawson fell, mortally wounded. The singular part 
of this story was that the autopsy showed that the bullet 
had entered Captain Dawson's body from behind. To the 
astonishment of the country at large the trial resulted in 
a miscarriage of justice through a mistrial and Dr. McDow 
was set free. 

Captain Dawson had a strong character ; in fact, he was a 
masterful man. He had many friends, and more enemies. 
His caustic editorials in the " News and Courier" were much 
admired by some, but the bee on the end of his pen had 
stung many others. He had undoubtedly done as much as, 
and probably more than, any other man to free South 
Carolina from the carpetbag yoke, but when the editorial 
lion was dead, the political hyenas whose aspirations he 
had failed to further gathered at his grave to growl and snarl 
over his dead body, and it was probably owing to this bitter 
feeling that his murder went unavenged. Some years after 
the horrible tragedy, Dr. McDow was found dead in his 
house where he was living alone. 

Sad at heart over the loss of my brother-in-law and best 
of friends, and the bereavement of my sister and her son 
and daughter, I returned to my Maryland farm. For ten 
long years I devoted my time to farming and the breeding 
of horses with rather worse than indifferent success. When 
I started the business it seemed as though a craze had pos- 
sessed all the young men of fortune in the country to set up 
large breeding establishments, with the result that horses 
became a drug on the market. 

I wonder if any one ever understood the workings of a 



Vagaries of the Horse 461 

horse's mind, or instinct, as some prefer to call it? The staid 
and sober old family horse who will with the utmost sang- 
froid walk up to a locomotive and smell it, or who will re- 
fuse to become interested in blasting operations going on 
near him, or who will go to sleep while the racing horses 
drag a fire engine with its clanging bells by him on the 
street, will throw a dozen fits, go into convulsions, and 
smash things generally if he sees a piece of paper on the 
ground, or when a chicken flies across the road in front of 
him. I attended to the breaking of my colts myself, and 
they usually afforded enough excitement to prevent my 
suffering from ennui. Runaways and smash-ups were of 
frequent occurrence and were regarded as being in the day's 
work. One day, while driving a very gentle colt to a light 
sulky, the ubiquitous chicken ran across the road in front 
of him with the usual result. The colt jumped sideways and 
fell, overturning the two-wheeled vehicle and throwing me 
out, landing me at the bottom of a deep ditch with the colt 
on top of me. When the colt struggled to his feet he stood 
for a few moments with one hind foot planted on my breast. 
I was almost suffocated, and for an instant thought that the 
bones would be crushed in by the weight of the animal; but 
he was a kindly creature and seemed to know he was hurting 
me, as he, with deliberation, lifted his foot from my chest 
and put it down alongside of my face. With all that tangled 
mass of broken harness hanging from the young animal, I 
did not know at what moment a kicking exhibition would 
commence, and slowly raised myself to a sitting position 
and inched myself out of immediate danger. A violent fit 
of coughing, followed by the expectoration of a quantity of 
blood, left me feeling quite weak, but I managed to get the 
colt out of the ditch, and the only memento I now have of 
my narrow escape from death is a protuberance of bone as 
big as the end of my thumb which adorns the end of one of 
my upper ribs. 

I had brought several fox terriers from Melbourne, and as 



462 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

these dogs had never before seen snow it was amusing to see 
them grab a mouthful, and when the cold bit their tongues, 
lose their tempers and proceed to fight it. There are no non- 
poisonous snakes in Australia, and when a blade of grass, 
moved by the breeze, rustled against another, these little 
animals would make a leap as though they were being shot 
out of a catapult, so instinctively afraid were they of snakes. 
Fox terriers at the time happened to be the fad in dogs, and 
I bred them for profit. At times I would have between 
twenty and thirty of these active, nervous, little creatures 
on the farm, and life to them meant one continuous rat 
hunt in the barn varied by wild chases after rabbits and 
strange curs. Any one who has ever kept one fox terrier 
can imagine the din in which we lived with twenty-five on 
the premises. 



CHAPTER LVI 

Visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New York — Accompany Mrs. Davis to Rich- 
mond — Unveiling of the memorial window to Mr. Davis — Make the oration 
at the unveiHng of the statuette to Mr. Davis in the Confederate Museum — 
The old Confederate " White House" — Present my sword and letters from 
President Davis and General Lee to the Museum — Letter from Mrs. Davis 
on the subject of Prince Polignac's canard about his mission to France for 
the purpose of selling the State of Louisiana. 

In 1897, I went to visit Mrs. Jefferson Davis in New- 
York. She was then living at the Girard Hotel, by no 
means a fashionable hostelry, but the best the poor lady, 
who was supporting herself by her pen, could afford. I had 
last seen Mrs. Davis when she visited Mr. Trenholm's fam- 
ily in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1867. At that time 
she was a middle-aged woman in splendid health. She was 
tall and her figure showed strength and activity in her ev- 
ery movement. Imagine what a shock it was to me to see 
coming into the room an old lady, bent with sorrow and 
physical suffering, who walked with the assistance of a 
cane. But the shock which her appearance gave me was 
no greater than the change that time had wrought in me 
caused her. I advanced to meet her, and she placed her 
hands on my shoulders and kissed me, then, holding me at 
arm's length, she earnestly gazed at my face for a moment 
and suddenly exclaimed: "Jimmy! my child! What have 
you done to your pretty brown hair?" She told me that 
nothing had made her realize so vividly her own age as the 
sight of my white hair, as she had always thought of me 
as a laughing, romping boy, who, with her youngest brother, 
was always in some kind of mischief. 

When the memorial window to Mr. Jefferson Davis, in 
St. Paul's Church in Richmond, was to be unveiled, in 
April, 1898, Colonel Burton N. Harrison, Mr. Davis's former 



464 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

private secretary, and I were invited to accompany Mrs. 
Davis to the former capital of the Confederacy. It was not 
a cheerful trip, for we could not help but remember that 
former painful journey that we had taken together when 
Richmond fell and the hopes of the Southern people were 
annihilated. Try as we would we could find no topic of 
conversation that would not lead us back to memories of 
our loved ones who had passed away since the stormy days 
of the war, or recollections of the gallant heroes we had 
known who had died for what they thought was the cause of 
the right. 

At the unveiling I found it difficult to fix my attention 
upon the religious services of the moment, as my memory 
surged backward to a time some forty years previously when 
I sat in the same church with the family of Mr. Trenholm 
and listened to its much-loved old rector, Dr. Minnegerode, 
with his strong German accent, pray fervently for the 
success of our arms ; and when my attention would wan- 
der, as wander sometimes it did, my eyes would frequently 
rest upon the bowed heads of such historical personages 
as President Davis, General Lee, "Stonewall" Jackson, 
J. E. B. Stuart, and many other officers of high rank and 
fame who usually attended services there when they were 
in Richmond for the day. 

The day after the unveiling of the memorial window, I 
was invited to make the speech in presenting a statuette of 
Mr. Davis, which had been given to the ladies in charge of 
the Confederate Museum, which occupies the former resi- 
dence of the Confederacy's chief. I could only with difficulty 
control my emotion as I spoke, for that house, where as a 
young midshipman I had romped with "Jeff" Howell, Mrs. 
Davis's youngest brother, and where I had spent so many 
happy days when off duty, was now filled with ghosts of the 
past. The ladies connected with the Museum were very 
kind to me, and I felt very much complimented when they 
requested me to present to the Museum the Confederate 



Prince Polignac's Canard 465 

regulation naval sword, which I wore when I accompanied 
Mrs. Davis South. The sword was made in England, and 
had the cotton plant chased on one side of the blade, and 
the tobacco plant on the other; also the first Confederate 
flag (the "Stars and Bars") and the naval coat of arms — 
two crossed cannon and a fouled anchor. This sword now 
hangs in the "Louisiana" room of the Confederate "White 
House." 

Prince Polignac, a French officer, served for a time in the 
Confederate Army. Mr. Jefferson Davis appointed him a 
brigadier-general and sent him to Louisiana to serve under 
Mr. Davis's brother-in-law, General "Dick" Taylor, com- 
manding the Southern troops in that part of the country. 
Prince Polignac, being a foreigner, had an advantage over 
the native-born soldiers in that he could quit when he 
got tired. A wearied feeling came over him in the latter 
part of 1864, when things were looking rather gloomy for 
the Confederacy, and he returned to "la belle France," as 
he had a perfect right to do. As distance always "lends en- 
chantment to the view," Polignac after a few years began 
to imagine himself a second Lafayette as well as the real hero 
of the Confederate Army. In carrying out the resemblance 
to Lafayette, he proposed to revisit America after thirty 
years and make a triumphal tour of the Southern States. 
He really seemed to labor under the hallucination that he 
had won the independence of the Southern Confederacy. 
But that was not the only illusion he labored under. In 1901, 
unable longer to bear the strain of an impossible state secret 
whose weight he had staggered under for forty years, he 
confided to a newspaper reporter the story of Jefferson 
Davis's treachery and meditated treason, and told how he, 
Polignac, had been sent to France by Mr. Davis to offer to 
the Emperor Napoleon III the State of Louisiana in return 
for military assistance in the struggle then going on be- 
tween the North and South. I sent the newspaper clipping 
to Mrs. Davis and received the following reply: — 



466 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

Hotel Girard, New York, 
123 West Forty-Fourth Street, 
March 21, 1901. 

My dear Jimmie: — 

Your letter was a great surprise to me and I have sent it with 
the slip to Mr. Reagan. I should have asked Burton Harrison for 
his memories in the matter, but knew the whole statement false, 
and even if it had not been, Harrison would not have known 
anything about a matter necessarily of so private a nature. The 
matters of State were not, of course, confided to him, so Mr. 
Reagan will answer the accusation definitely and brand it as a 
scandalous invention of some one. That some thoughtless men 
might have collogued together is barely possible, but not probable, 
as if we had been reduced to such a strait the French Government 
would have known Mr. Davis could not give France territory 
already on the eve of being captured from us, and such an agree- 
ment or offer would have been utterly worthless. 

Even the man who writes does not certify to Mr. Davis or the 
Confederate Government having sent Prince Polignac on such a 
mission. Who else had the right? This is a ridiculus mus, I sup- 
pose found by some pothouse statesman. 

Thank you for your defense of Mr. Davis, and believe me, 

Faithfully your friend, 

V. Jefferson Davis. 

Mr. Reagan was Postmaster-General of the Confederate 
Government, and at the time Mrs. Davis wrote the fore- 
going letter he was the only survivor of President Davis's 
Cabinet. Mrs. Davis sent me his answer to the canard 
about the offer to trade Louisiana, and of course it was an 
indignant denial of the story. Wishing to put the refutation 
of the impossible falsehood where it could be seen by future 
generations, and also to protect Mr. Davis's memory, I gave 
Mr. Reagan's letter to Professor Callahan, the Southern 
historian, as I knew Mrs. Davis wanted it to have pub- 
licity. But Mrs. Davis objected to some statements that 
Professor Callahan had made concerning her husband 
in some of his writings, and when I informed her as to 
the disposition I had made of the letter she wrote me at 
once as follows : — 



A Letter from Mrs. Davis 467 

Hotel Girard, New York, 
123 West Forty-Fourth Street, 
April 9, 1898. 
My dear Jimmie: — 

Yours received. Please get back the letter which you sent to 
Professor Callahan ; I do not wish him to have it, and wish to pre- 
serve it myself. I have no reason to suppose that he will use it in 
the just and impartial spirit of a historian, nor yet with the rever- 
ence due to my dead husband's memory. I am sure you meant to 
perpetuate Mr. Reagan's testimony in the most enduring manner, 
but some of Professor Callahan's utterances convince me to the 
contrary. With thanks for your interest, and very happy over 
my friend Prince Polignac's interest in my husband's stainless 
reputation, 

I am affectionately yours, 

V. Jefferson Davis. 



CHAPTER LVII 

The hero of Manila Bay — Distinguished dead who were my friends — 
Some learned societies which have honored me — "Peace at any price." 

In 1898, I sold " Cedarcrof t," my country place, and 
moved to the City of Washington where I was living when 
the "hero of Manila Bay" returned to the capital after his 
brilliant victory and received an ovation from his fellow 
citizens which must have made his very blood tingle with 
pride and gratification. In the old prints the naval heroes 
are always depicted as standing on the quarter deck, sword 
in hand, and pointing with it toward some indefinite object 
in the distance, but the picture of Admiral Dewey which 
I saw a few days after his triumphal entry into the city, 
although never painted, will remain indelibly printed on my 
memory as long as life lasts. 

My little daughter, Frederica, a child of nine, was, like 
everybody else, enthusiastic over the admiral, and her one 
ambition was to shake hands with him and be able to boast 
in years to come that she had talked with the great man. I 
was persuaded to take her to his bachelor quarters to satisfy 
her longing. The admiral, of course, was very kind and 
courteous, as it is natural for him to be, and in a little while 
he took the child into the next room, leaving his aide- de- 
camp and me to entertain each other. After some little 
time, fearing we were making too long a visit and that the 
admiral might tire of his little guest, I went into the room 
to tell her it was time for us to say good-bye. As I entered 
the apartment I beheld as pretty a picture as ever eyes 
rested upon. There, in front of an open trunk, seated on 
the floor, side by side, were the victorious admiral and the 
little girl having the time of their lives. The hero was busily 
pinning his decorations and medals on the front of her little 
dress, and around her neck was the famous diamond-studded 



Distinguished Friends 469 

chain of the magnificent watch which the City of Boston had 
presented to him. With much laughter he ordered the aide 
and myself to leave him and his playmate alone, and for 
nearly an hour longer continued to amuse her with the 
treasures the wonderful trunk contained. 

I have other and sadder memories of distinguished and 
gallant officers whom I have had the honor to number 
among my dear and personal friends. I was one of the pall- 
bearers at the funeral of Major-General Harry Heth, who 
commanded a division in General Lee's army. General Heth 
was like one of the family in General Lee's house, where he 
had spent much of his time in boyhood. He had the unique 
distinction of being the only officer whom General Lee ever 
was heard to call by his first name. He invariably addressed 
both of his sons, Custis and Runie, as "General," but Gen- 
eral Heth was always spoken to as "Harry." 

Another dear friend whose body I accompanied on its 
last journey was Rear Admiral James E. Jouett, U.S.N. , 
one of the most gallant officers in the service. He it was who 
in a launch boarded and captured the Confederate gunboat 
Royal Yacht in Galveston Harbor, and afterwards com- 
manded the U.S.S. Metacomet which was lashed alongside 
of the Hartford at the battle of Mobile Bay. He cut loose 
from the Hartford and engaged the C.S. gunboat Selma 
and after a furious engagement destroyed her. I on one 
occasion heard Mr. Loyal Farragut, the only son of the 
great admiral, say that undoubtedly Jouett was his father's 
favorite captain. 

Admiral Jouett died at the "Anchorage," near Sandy 
Springs, Maryland, his favorite place of residence. I was in 
the same house with him when he passed away, and only a 
week or ten days before I had seen that wonderful old gen- 
tleman (he was a good deal over seventy) on a moonlight 
night out with his beloved hounds chasing a fox. None of 
Admiral Jouett's immediate family were with him when he 



470 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

died, as they were in Florida at the time. I could not bear 
the idea of the old hero being buried from an undertaker's 
shop, so I had his body taken to my residence in Washing- 
ton, and from there, escorted by the Marine Band and a 
battalion of marines and sailors, it was taken to Arlington, 
where he now rests. 

As an ex-vice-president of the Society of the Sons of the 
Revolution I was one of the guard of honor who walked 
alongside of the caisson which bore the remains of General 
Clinton, the fourth Vice-President of the United States, 
and a Revolutionary hero, from the Congressional Cemetery 
to the railway station on the occasion of their removal to 
his native State of New York in 1908. 

When I was United States Consul-General in Melbourne, 
the Royal Geographical Society of Australasia did me the 
honor of making me a life member, and in 1904, when the 
Eighth International Geographic Congress met in Wash- 
ington, my Australian friends further honored me by ap- 
pointing me their delegate. The assemblage was a most 
imposing one, for here were assembled the most distinguished 
geographers and explorers living at the time. When I was 
called on to say something, I felt very nervous in the pres- 
ence of such a gathering, for while I had wandered over a 
great portion of the globe, I had not been any place that 
some explorer had not been before me. So to avoid ap- 
pearing silly, I read to them a hitherto unpublished diary 
of my great-grandfather. Colonel George Morgan, giving a 
graphic account of a voyage he made in a batteau from the 
mouth of the Kaskaskia River to the Gulf of Mexico in 
1767. Butler in his "History of Kentucky" (1834) says: 
"The earliest enterprise in navigating the Mississippi by 
Americans from Pittsburgh to New Orleans was indeed one 
of boldness. It was performed by Colonel Taylor, of Ken- 
tucky, his brother, and Colonel Linn, who got as far as the 
Yazoo and then went to Georgia with the Southern Indians 
in 1769." 



Honors from Learned Societies 471 

Colonel Morgan's voyage was made, as recorded in his 
diary, two years previous to this date, namely, 1767; and 
he also covered the whole route, returning to Philadelphia 
by sea. The Geographic Congress was much interested in 
the diary and ordered it printed in its "Proceedings." 

Again, in 1906, the Royal Geographical Society of Aus- 
tralasia paid me the compliment of delegating me to rep- 
resent them at the celebration of the two hundredth anni- 
versary of the birth of Benjamin Franklin, held under the 
auspices of the American Philosophical Society of Phila- 
delphia, an institution which was founded in 1743. When 
the delegates were called to order it appeared that most, if 
not all, of the great scientific societies and institutions of 
learning in the world were represented. Oxford, Cam- 
bridge, the Royal Society of London, as well as many of 
the Continental universities, had sent some of their ablest 
men to represent them and to do honor to the memory of 
Benjamin Franklin. 

Harvard, Yale, and other American universities and 
learned societies were represented by such men as Charles 
W. Eliot, Arthur T. Hadley, Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, Professor 
Simon Newcomb, etc. When the speech-making began, one 
of the delegates addressed the assembly in Latin, and was 
followed by others who spoke in the languages of their 
various nationalities, and I must confess that I felt myself 
very much out of place amidst all this erudition until Mr. 
Andrew Carnegie, Lord Rector of the University of St. 
Andrew's, mounted the stage and commenced orating with 
his strong Scotch accent. 

In 1 9 14 I was invited to deliver the oration on the oc- 
casion of the decoration of the graves of the Confederate 
dead at Winchester, Virginia, — historic Winchester, around 
which so many bloody battles were fought, and which 
changed hands so many times during the great conflict of 
the Civil War, and where some of the residences to this day 
show the marks where shot and shell struck them. 



472 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

There are two graveyards at Winchester, situated side by 
side, with only a narrow footpath separating them. One 
is the United States National Cemetery, where sleep the 
Federal soldiers who fell in the neighborhood, and in the 
other lie the Confederates who probably killed and were 
killed by them. It is a solemn sight, these brave and silent 
warriors camped alongside of each other for all eternity. 

I am doubtful if my remarks on that occasion met with 
unanimous approval from my living audience. I feel sure, 
however, that they met with the approval of the dead heroes 
who, I maintained, had given up life and all that was dear 
to them in an effort to defend and protect their native land. 
But a fad, amounting almost to a religious mania, has swept 
over the nation in recent years. It is called "peace at any 
price" and is a menace to the country. Most living South- 
erners have either forgotten or never have experienced bayo- 
net rule, and how the carpetbagger and the negro tyrannized 
over us in the days of the so-called " Reconstruction." They 
seem to think that if the conqueror does come, it will only 
be like a change in national administration, and that, secure 
in their lives and property, all will go on as before. These 
deluded " peace-at-any-price " people are bad enough, but 
then we have in our midst the more dangerous element — 
American braggarts — who maintain that no preparation 
for war is necessary, as a crowd of farmers and dry-goods 
clerks armed with pitchforks, scythes, and yardsticks, or a 
corporal's guard of Boy Scouts with their pretty little staffs 
can whip the British Coldstream Guards and the Prussian 
Death's-Head Hussars combined ! They point with pride to 
how the Confederates built, within a few months, ironclads 
which fought splendidly, and in their ignorance nothing 
but a great disaster could make them realize that a single 
modern dreadnaught can whip the Gulf of Mexico full of 
just such craft as the Merrimac, Albemarle, Arkansas, and 
Tennessee. 

They have entrusted the training of their boys entirely 



The Peace-at-any-Price Fad 473 

to women, forgetting that woman follows the fashion 
of the moral fad of the hour as earnestly as she does the 
Parisian styles in clothes, and is easily persuaded to take up 
with ecstasy such fads or myths as universal peace, and to 
labor conscientiously to instill into the pliant minds of her 
young pupils the beautiful and peaceful principles of turn- 
ing the other cheek, or lying down when they feel them- 
selves being imposed upon. In fact, deep in her heart, 
there is nothing a woman has such a contempt and disgust 
for as she has for a weakling or a coward, and when the fad 
of the day is war, there is nothing so merciless and cruel as 
the female. I remember seeing the mothers and grand- 
mothers of these same women, in the early sixties of the 
last century, instigating their men-folks to arm and slay, 
and I distinctly remember how they would contempt- 
uously sweep aside their skirts for fear they would be con- 
taminated by coming in contact with even a lifelong male 
friend who had dodged going into the fray. I also told the 
young men that these same young women, who held aloft 
their peace banners with such a sanctimonious air, would 
march off with the conqueror when he came, leaving their 
own men, the creatures of their fallacious teaching, pros- 
trate under the heel of the victor, bereft of self-respect, 
property, and of all their good-looking young women. I 
warned them that wars would occur in the future as they had 
in the past; that they had continued, with short intervals 
of peace (for the purpose of recuperating their energies), 
since the time when God Almighty Himself and his arch- 
angel had led the hosts, to the day of Appomattox. 

I made my speech on the 30th of June, and on the ist of 
August, thirty-two days later, the greatest war the world 
has yet witnessed was begun in Europe. 



CHAPTER LVIII 

The "birth of a nation" — Assistant manager of the Washington branch 
of the International Banking Corporation — Extracts from a diary kept on 
a journey to Panama — Meet my old classmates Admirals Coghlan and Glass, 
of the "brood of the Constitution" — My old hulk is laid up in ordinary 
waiting to be scrapped. 

It does not fall to the lot of every man to be present at 
the birth of a nation, but it so happened that I was present 
when the Republic of Panama made its first appearance in 
the family of — so-called — independent countries. Presi- 
dent Roosevelt was the chief medical attendant in charge 
of the accouchement, with William Nelson Cromwell acting 
as sage femme and the French engineer, Bunau-Varilla, 
acting the part of the trained nurse. 

It so happened that in the year 1903 I was the assistant 
manager of the Washington branch of the International 
Banking Corporation. The high officials of the bank, whose 
headquarters were in New York, knew what was in the 
wind, and wished to send a representative to the Isthmus 
to spy out the land and report as to the advisability of 
establishing branches there. All of the bank officials agreed 
that it would be advisable to investigate the new field, but 
such was the universal fear of the dreaded yellow fever that 
they all side-stepped the detail. I volunteered for the service 
and received the appointment, as there were no competitors. 

The following extracts, made from my diary kept on the 
voyage, may be of interest : — 

December I, 1903. At 11. 30 A.M. boarded the Panama steam- 
ship Seguranca. This ship was the headquarters of General 
Shafter and his chief of staff, Colonel Miley, during the Span- 
ish War. Found the decks deserted, but soon saw Mr. Bunau- 
Varilla, the first Panamanian Minister to the United States, come 
up from below. He continued to bob up and down through the 
hatchway until the ship was ready to sail. I wondered at his 



The Birth of a Nation 475 

strange antics until I learned that the whole Panama Govern- 
ment, the "Junta," was on board. 

A man who holds forth continuously in the smoking-room 
swears that he took part in the last Panama revolution and that 
"so many men were killed that the buzzards would not touch 
any one under the rank of a colonel." 

December 6. The "Junta," which hitherto has remained se- 
cluded, is now very much in evidence on deck. It appears that I 
am an object of some little curiosity among them. I was ap- 
proached by Seiior Arosemina, a highly educated gentleman with 
charming manners, who evidently intended to pump me as to my 
object in going to Panama at this time. He was very diplomatic 
and tactful, but I made the work easy for him by blurting out 
that "I had no secrets to conceal. I represented a great bank 
which had branches all over the world, and that I was going to 
the Isthmus to find out if it would pay us to establish branches 
there." The senor's astonishment at my frankness was so great 
that he fairly gasped, and then he took his leave. 

In a little while I was interviewed by another member of the 
"Junta," Don Federico Boyd, — the name sounds English be- 
cause his father was a former American newspaper editor in 
Panama. Don Federico's manner was very different from that of 
the courtly Arosemina. He appeared to me to be very angry, and 
tersely informed me that under no circumstances would I be 
permitted to open a bank on the Isthmus, and then he turned 
on his heel and walked away. 

Shortly after this Seiior Arosemina came to my stateroom, I 
suppose for the purpose of finding out how I took the unpleasant 
news. I told him that I wanted to bet that the United States, 
after all, would not recognize the Republic of Panama. As he 
smiled incredulously, I told him that General Thomas H. Hub- 
bard, president of the International Banking Corporation, was 
not only a man of great wealth and social prominence, but that 
he was a man of great influence in the councils of the Republican 
Party, and that as soon as the ship reached the dock in Colon I 
was going to cable him that no American would be allowed to do 
a banking business in the country, and that of course he would 
make the contents of my cablegram public, and that I did not 
believe any United States Senator would have the courage to vote 
for the recognition of a country which would not allow a reputable 
American banker to do business within its limits. 

The seiior seemed to consider my remarks as of sufificient im- 
portance to be reported to the "Junta," and soon I received a 



476 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

visit from the head of that august body, Dr. Amador, first Presi- 
dent of the Republic of Panama, who informed me that I entirely 
misunderstood what Don Federico Boyd had said to me ; that the 
idea the latter intended to convey was that no foreign bank would 
be permitted to flood the country with its notes, etc.; but that 
while he did not think that a foreign bank would find it lucrative 
to start business in the community, still if I wanted to lose my 
money no one would prevent me so long as I did not put any bank- 
notes into circulation. As the International was not a bank of 
issue, and as I had never mentioned any intention of putting out 
bank-notes, I thought the explanation very ingenious — and very 
satisfactory. I told the President that I was merely going to look 
over the field and report as to whether or not I considered it would 
be advantageous to establish branches there. I afterwards learned 
that two of the President's daughters were married to two sons of 
Ehrman, who seemed to have a monopoly of the banking business 
of the country. 

Dr. Amador is tall and straight with a benign countenance and 
is possessed of the typical sympathetic manners of the family 
physician. He is said to be universally beloved and respected by 
the people of Panama. 

December 8. Ship rolled and pitched heavily all night. At day- 
light arrived at Colon, American fleet commanded by my former 
classmate Rear Admiral Joseph B. Coghlan ("Jolly Joe"), the 
man who created such excitement by repeating the popular 
"Hoch der Kaiser" rhymes, the refrain of which is "Me und 
Gott," for which he was banished to Bremerton. 

About every half-hour a rain squall passes over the place and 
the water comes down, not in drops, but in sheets. 

A small crowd of officials came to the dock to welcome Dr. 
Amador home. They seem delighted to learn that they have had 
a revolution and that it has been successful (in Washington). 
Dr. A. is really the whole revolution. 

At 9 A.M. took the special train for Panama. Train decorated 
with flags. We had an ovation all the way across the Isthmus. 
The train runs for some distance along the banks of the Chagres 
River and crosses that stream several times. From Colon to 
Panama there is an almost continuous settlement inhabited chiefly 
by Chinamen and Jamaica negroes. Along the route of the pro- 
posed canal there lies, going to ruin, an extraordinary amount of 
machinery such as locomotives, cars, steel rails, etc., and steam 
tugs, dredges, and barges. 




DR. M. AMADOK 

First President of the Republic of Panama, 1903 



The Panama Revolution 477 

Arriving at Panama we found the city gayly decorated with 
flags, and the whole Panamanian army was at the railway station 
to do honor to their chief. It was a most extraordinary array com- 
posed mostly of negroes. There were tall old men with short guns 
of the vintage of 1 8 12, and small boys, evidently not more than 
fourteen years of age, carrying old muskets with enormously long 
barrels; their uniforms were evidently made to suit the taste of 
the individual wearers, as no two were alike, most of them being 
adorned with yellow, blue, and red rags supposed to represent 
ribbons; but they all appeared to be dirty and ragged. A band of 
music, however, enlivened the scene as they gayly marched off 
escorting their new President to his residence. On the route bombs 
were exploded and fire-crackers lavishly popped. 

The Hotel Central where I stopped was only two or three dooFs 
from the home of Dr. Amador, in front of which a band of music 
and an enthusiastic crowd remained until 9.30 p.m. when it 
quietly dispersed. The American idea of no more bloodshed and 
no more revolutions seems to rule supreme. "Peace and pros- 
perity" are the watchwords. God grant for these poor people 
that this dream, which is so contrary to their nature, may come 
true. 

December 9. The humid, hot atmosphere is almost stifling. 
Went out to buy a straw hat. Could not find a Panama hat in any 
of the stores. Panamanians don't wear them; so compromised on 
a straw hat made in Italy. 

Called on the American Consul-General, who seemed very 
much gratified when I presented him with a personal letter of 
introduction from Mr. John Hay, Secretary of State. Wanting 
some money, armed with my letter of credit I called on Mr. 
Henry Ehrman, local king of finance. The first question he asked 
me was as to whether I was personally acquainted with Mr. Wil- 
liam Nelson Cromwell, of New York, and when I had to acknowl- 
edge that I did not have the honor, I could plainly see that he did 
not think much of me. Everybody I meet asks me the same ques- 
tion, by way of making conversation, and when I reply in the 
negative they appear to lose all interest in me. Before leaving the 
United States I was under the impression that President Roosevelt 
was the "king pin" in that country just at present, but I find I am 
mistaken. 

Mr. Ehrman questioned me as to where I was born, and when 
told Louisiana, he seemed delighted to meet me, and to my sur- 
prise the rich man told me that he had once carried a peddler's 



478 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

pack In that State, and went on to inquire if we had any mutual 
acquaintances. To my surprise he asked me if I knew the Averys 
of Louisiana, and when I told him that Judge Avery was a most 
intimate friend of my father, and that I had been a schoolmate of 
his sons, I could see the mercury in my social thermometer rise 
with a bound and my status was established so far as Panama was 
concerned. Ehrman told me that when a peddler he often stopped 
at Avery's Island and that the family were always very kind to 
him. In Mr. Ehrman's bank there were coils of rope, dry goods, 
bolts of silk, and various other merchandise for sale. I inquired 
as to what the rate of exchange was that day, and he drew him- 
self up and replied," Whatever I choose to make it!" — and he 
told the truth too. 

While there a dump cart loaded with silver coin stopped in 
front of the bank and dumped its contents on the sidewalk, and 
the clerks went out and sat around it while counting the dollars. 
I caused Mr. Ehrman great amusement by asking him what rate 
of interest he paid depositors. He replied that he "charged them 
two per cent for taking care of their money!" I decided then and 
there that Panama was a good place for a bank. 

I find that my name is not one to conjure with here, as the 
legends of the people have kept fresh the memory of Morgan the 
Buccaneer's burning of Panama. I do not think it necessary to 
tell them that Sir Henry's name appears on the old genealogical 
tree brought to America by my ancestor who was the first of his 
family to settle there. 

After luncheon took a siesta. All doors and windows in the hotel 
are left open. About 3.30 p.m. I arose and was sitting on the side 
of my bed, clad only in gauze undershirt and drawers, when who 
should walk into my room, unannounced, but the President of the 
Republic, who, believing in the old adage that it is "the early 
bird which catches the worm," had a little business, on the side, 
which he wanted to see me about, namely, to rent me one 6f his 
buildings in case I decided to establish a bank in Panama. I 
found it somewhat difficult to talk business in a dignified manner 
while en deshabille, especially with the ruler of a great nation, so 
I called his attention to a photograph of my fourteen-year-old 
daughter which was on my dressing-table, and before he ceased 
admiring it I had slipped on my clothes and felt myself to be again 
"the solemn banker." We went out for a stroll to see his building 
and he also showed me the ancient fortifications of the city, which 
were very interesting. 



An Exciting Night 479 

December 10. The hotel stands on the public plaza on the other 
side of which is the Cathedral ; near by is the Bishop's palace, a 
part of the lower floor of which is occupied by the Panama lottery. 
I had a bad night of it and little sleep. I retired at 10.30 p.m. and 
found that there were as many mosquitoes inside the net as there 
were outside. It was difficult to kill them, as I had only the feeble 
light of a primitive candle. Came near setting the hotel on fire, 
and at last fell asleep, only to be awakened at midnight by a fel- 
low with a magnificent baritone voice and a guitar. He was sere- 
nading his lady love who lived in the vicinity. Being old and 
crabbed I said something that sounded to me very much like 

" D n !" and then went to sleep again, to be awakened an hour 

afterwards by firing in the distance; it sounded to me like the once 
familiar picket firing. Going out on the piazza I saw two young 
men in front of the park gate who were quietly chatting and 

smoking. Said "D n!" again and went back to bed. It was 

half-past one when the firing again awakened me. This time it 
seemed nearer. Went out on the piazza and saw the young men 
(before mentioned) still in the park, where they were still smok- 
ing. Did not see any reason why I should get excited if they were 

not, so gave vent to a real big big " D n " and went to bed for 

the third time. About 2 A.M. firing became very heavy and soldiers 
crowded the plaza. Several bullets pattered against the front wall 
of the hotel. I could not believe that military men would fire a 
feu dejoie with ball cartridges, so I jumped up and hastily dressed, 
feeling sure that I was in for another revolution. Slipping a 
pistol into my hip pocket I went downstairs. The hotel seemed 
deserted, and not a living soul was to be seen in the patio. The 
entrance to the hotel from the street was through a tunnel re- 
sembling the sallyport of a fort. If I was to die I wanted the 
finish to take place in the open and not in a trap, like a rat. Know- 
ing the great love (?) of the natives for the accursed Yankee, I had 
little doubt as to what my fate would be as soon as I was recognized 
as belonging to the hated race. Judge of my astonishment when I 
reached the street and several men threw their arms around me 
while exclaiming, "Amigo Americano!" I soon learned that the 
cause of the commotion was that the soldiers did not think that 
sufficient joy had been shown on the occasion of the return of their 
chief two days ago, and they had chosen this unearthly hour 
further to honor their President. 

Dr. Amador appeared on his front piazza in response to their 
cheers and made them a speech which was loudly applauded. 



480 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

There were "Vivas" for William Nelson Cromwell, the greatest 
man in America (in their opinion), but none for Theodore Roose- 
velt. Finally the soldiers returned peaceably to their barracks, 
and I to my bed. 

I called to-day on Mr. Dukey, who runs the lottery. He also 
does a banking business. He tells me that he has an average of 
fifty thousand dollars on deposit with him. He thinks that the 
International will be ruined if it establishes a branch here. But 
if they do put one here, he would like to take charge of it for 
a liberal consideration. Also called on Mr. Brandon, who has a 
combination bank and store. He evidently considers himself a 
very important personage and gave me a scolding because I had 
not brought letters of introduction to him from my bank. Also 
seemed disgusted that I was not acquainted with the great Crom- 
well. However, I placated him by buying a box of cigars. He as- 
sured me that a branch bank here would be the death-knell of 
the International, but that he would accept the management of it 
if the pay was sufficient. 

I went to see several foreigners who are in business, who pleaded 
with me to establish a branch here, and grew eloquent over the 
advantages that would accrue to the bank if I did so. 

In the afternoon Rear Admiral Glass, U.S.N., and United 
States Consul-General Gudger called on me. I was at Annapolis 
with Glass. He is the man who graduated "No. i " of my class, 
the famous "brood of the Constitution," so called because they 
spent their first year at the Naval Academy on board of that his- 
toric frigate. 

December 11. Went with Mr. Peet, agent of the Pacific Steam 
Navigation Company, on his yacht to return the call of Admiral 
Glass. Had a most affectionate and warm reception. The admiral 
took us in his barge from his flagship Marblehead to call on the 
captain of the U.S. monitor Wyoming, and from that vessel we 
went to H.B.M. cruiser Amphion, where we were very hospi- 
tably entertained. There were a number of enormous sharks 
swimming round these men-of-war waiting for scraps to be thrown 
overboard. There was one huge shark in particular which had but 
one eye; every sailor that has ever visited the port, I was told, 
knew him, as he had been about the harbor for a length of time 
beyond the memory of any living man. He was called "One- 
Eyed Pete," and was said to be perfectly harmless, but I did not 
see any one in swimming — and it was a hot day too. 

December 12. At 10 o'clock this morning called on President 



Interesting Facts about Panama 481 

Amador and his Cabinet at the Government House. Had a very 
pleasant reception. I urged them to deposit the ten million dol- 
lars they are to receive from the United States with our bank and 
offered them four per cent interest on all sums of over a million 
placed with us as a fixed deposit for one or more years. They 
seemed pleased with the offer, and it looks as if I may get it. 

December 12. Having learned what I wanted to know about 
my business, I took the evening train for Colon. Colonel Black, of 
the United States Engineers, was a fellow passenger, and strongly 
urged me to establish a bank on the Isthmus, as he said it was a 
necessity without which our Government would be subjected to 
grave inconvenience. 

Had pointed out to me an interesting tree which stands near 
the railroad track. The trunk of it is white and of huge propor- 
tions. It is called the "Stephens " tree, because that was the name 
of the first engineer of the Panama Railway, and the poor fellow 
died under it of the fever. 

I was told that there was a man buried alongside of the line for 
every railroad cross- tie that was laid — cheerful ! 

At 4 P.M. called on Admiral John G. Walker, U.S.N. , who lives 
at the house of Colonel Shaler, superintendent of the railway. 
Met Admiral Coghlan there. Coghlan says he will give any one 
five hundred dollars who will tell him where a single one of those 
hundred thousand Colombian soldiers are who, it is said, are 
marching on Colon. 

December 14. Called on the American Consul and had break- 
fast with him, after which he took me for a drive. We went to see 
the palace built by De Lesseps in hopes that he would have the 
honor of entertaining the French Empress there when she came 
for the opening of the canal. It is located on a peninsula and is 
surrounded by magnificent cocoanut trees, and has a splendid 
view of the sea. In front of the palace and on the point of the 
peninsula stands a heroic bronze statue of Columbus on a pedes- 
tal. He has his arm protectingly around a nude Indian maiden 
who crouches alongside of him. The young female savage has 
the pretty face of a French grisette, and also has beautiful wavy, 
almost curly tresses, and plump fat legs that would not be out of 
place on the typical Dutch Frau. Columbus has a broad grin on 
his face, and well he might, for who ever before saw an Indian 
with wavy hair and fat legs? 

In the afternoon went on board of the Mayflower to call on 
Admiral Coghlan, and Captain Gleaves who commands the flag- 



482 Recollections of a Rebel Reefer 

ship. The Mayflower is coaling at the dock and on the other side 
of the pier is the U.S.S. Dixie with several hundred marines on 
board. The jibbooms of the ships reach almost to the street on 
the water front of the town. While Admiral Coghlan and I were 
walking on the deck we saw some half-dozen little Panama police- 
men try to arrest a six-foot American marine simply to show their 
own importance. The marine, who was perfectly sober, did not 
seem to be disposed to submit to the indignity, and the police 
attempted to use force. The big marine picked one of the little 
brown men up and used him as a club knocking down several of 
the little brown fellows, and Heaven alone knows what damage 
he would have done had it not been for the timely arrival of a 
corporal's guard from the Dixie, who took him in tow. 

December 23. Arrived at New York and reported at once to the 
officials of the bank. A meeting of the board of directors was 
called and I made my report to them, and on my representation 
of the situation it was decided at once to establish several branch 
banks on the Isthmus, which, I am happy to say, proved great 
successes. After making my report I was allowed to return to 
Washington and spend Christmas with my family. 

And now I have finished telling the tale of my adventures, 
some of which I have omitted on account of advancing age 
and failing memory, and I will only add that of the few 
honors which have fallen to my lot the one I am most proud 
of is my Confederate Cross of Honor, which was pinned on 
my breast by Miss Mary Lee, the only surviving daughter 
(19 1 6) of the great Confederate General. 



THE END 



INDEX 



INDEX 



Aborigines, Australian, 448-50. 

Adams, Charles Francis, American 
Minister to England, 108, ill, 113, 
114. 

Alabama, the, 126; sinks the Hatteras, 
127; sunk by the Kearsarge, 187. 

Alar, the, an active tug, 1 13-15. 

Albatross, a captive, 152. 

Amador, Dr., first President of Pan- 
ama, 476, 479. 

Anderson, Edward M., 127, 199; 
makes a pillow of Captain Semmes, 
129. 

Andrews, Eliza Frances, author of 
"Wartime Journal of a Georgia 
Girl," 241, 242. 

Arabi Bey, 290, 291. 

Arthur, President Chester A., 423. 

Australia, 431-56; wonderful horse- 
manship, 435, 436; animals, 445; 
rabbits, 447, 448; aborigines, 448- 
50; birds, 450-52. 

Baton Rouge, i, 2, 44; looting of 
J. M. M.'s home in, 90, 91. 

Bayard, Thomas F., and J. G. Blaine, 
375-77; Secretary of State, 424; 
in a temper, 427, 429; consults 
J. M. M. about Melbourne Fair, 

454, 455- 
Beaufort, Confederate gunboat, 86, 

87. 

Beecher, Henry Ward, denounces the 
Alabama, 135. 

Benjamin, Judah P., Confederate 
Secretary of State, 38, 223, 235, 
236. 

"Bilged" midshipmen, 29-32. 

Birds, Australian, 450-52. 

"Blackbirders," 442-44. 

Blaine, James G., 373, 441; excori- 
ates Senators Bayard and Vance, 
375-77; praised by J. M.M., 426-28. 

Blake, Captain Homer, of the U.S.S. 
Hatteras, 127. 



Blockade-runners, Confederate, 100, 

lOI. 

Bouligny, Hon. Edouard, oflFers J. 
M. M. appointment as midshipman, 
13; a famous duellist, 41. 

Bowen, Sherifif, 351, 353; concerned in 
murder of Colonel White, 353-59. 

Bowlegs, Billy, Indian chief, 3. 

Bragg, General Braxton, 45, 48. 

Breckinridge, General John C., Con- 
federate Secretary of War, 235, 
253- 

Bristed, Charles Astor, ostracized in 
Charleston, 260, 261. 

Buchanan, President James, and Mrs. 
Jefferson Davis, 221. 

Burroughs, Miss Gabriella, marries 
J. M. M., 344. 

Burt, Armisted, befriends President 
and Mrs. Davis, 235, 236. 

Butler, General B. F., digs the Dutch 
Gap Canal, 212, 213. 

Butler, General Matthew C, a hand- 
some man, 362; elected U.S. Sena- 
tor, 371; conspiracy against, 372, 
373; admitted to Senate, 374; let- 
ter from, 378; and Secretary Bay- 
ard, 427. 

Callahan, Professor James M., South- 
ern historian, 466, 467. 

Cameron, Don, 374. 

Campbell, Lieutenant W. P. A., 170, 
188; runs the Lillian into Wilming- 
ton, 191-95- 

Carpetbaggers, the, corruption of, 
262, 317, 320, 328, 332, 339-42, 
348-51, 364. 

Carter, Howell, li, 45. 

Cary, Clarence, 77, 315, 412. 

Cenas, Lieutenant Hilary, 215, 216. 

Chamberlain, Governor Daniel H., 

351. 352, 355. 
Chapman, Lieutenant R. T., 49, 112, 
113, 188; leaves the Georgia, 148. 



486 



Index 



Charloe, a celebrated jockey, 6-10, 

45. 

Chester, Rear Admiral Colby M., 26. 

Chicora, Confederate ironclad, 90. 

Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perces In- 
dians, 379-82; 

Chills and fever, 205. 

City Point, attempt to destroy, 218, 
219. 

Clark, Rear Admiral Charles E., 25, 

Cleveland, Grover, Governor of New 
York, 422, 423; President, 424, 
454; appoints J. M. M. Consul Gen- 
eral to Australia, 424-28. 

Coghlan, Rear Admiral Joseph B., 
26, 476, 481. 

Confederate Congress, appropriates 
money for war, 39 ; at variance with 
Mr. Davis, 224, 225. 

Confederate Navy, 183-86. 

Constitution, frigate ("Old Iron- 
sides"), fitted out as schoolship, 21; 
"the Brood of the," 23, 25, 25. 

Constitution, the, captured by the 
Georgia, 142-45. 

Cook, Rear Admiral Francis A., 25. 

Cooper, Captain Richard, 105, 108. 

Cromwell, William Nelson, 474, 477, 
480. 

Crowninshield, Rear Admiral A. S., 
Chief of the Bureau of Navigation, 
26. 

Davis, Jefferson, 38, 220, 221 ; removes 
General Johnston, 224; at variance 
with Confederate Congress, 225; 
flees from Richmond, 235, 237, 238; 
writes to J. M. M., 272; memorial 
window to, 463, 464; statuette of, 
presented to Confederate Museum, 
464. 

Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, her social gifts, 
221; her relations with Mrs. John- 
ston, 221, 222; leaves Richmond, 
228; has difficult journey, 228-36; 
changes in, 463; writes in regard to 
Prince Polignac, 466, 467. 

Dawson, Captain F. W., 77; in hospi- 
tal, 226, 227; marries sister of J. M. 
M., 227; becomes editor of the 
Charleston News and Courier, 344; 
hated by negroes, 349; accuses 



Sheriff Bowen of murder, 353 ; gets 
J. M. M. an office, 425, 426; death 
of, 459, 460. 

Dewey, Admiral George, 74; enter- 
tains J. M. M.'s little daughter, 468, 
469. 

Diaz, General Porfirio, 418, 419. 

Dimick, Colonel Justin, commander 
at Fortress Monroe, 18, 19. 

Doldrums, the, 124, 155. 

Dosse, the feast of the, 289, 290. 

Drayton Hall, 263. 

Drewry's Bluff, 80-82, 85, 204. 

Drum, Adjutant General R. C, 2, 
70, 371; thrashes J. M. M., 16, 17. 

Dunmore, Earl of, taken prisoner as 
"Mr. Murray," 104, 105. 

Egyptian army, 274, 287. 

Ehrman, Henry, 477, 478. 

Eliot, Nancy, 331. 

Eugenie, Empress, guest of the Khe- 
dive, 277, 281. 

Eunuchs, 274, 284, 285. 

Evans, Lieutenant, of the Georgia, 
118, 119, 161, 163; succeeds Cap- 
tain Maury, 169. 

Evans, Rear Admiral Robley D., 25, 
383; as midshipman, 27, 28. 

Evening Star, loss of the ship, 258. 

Farragut, Admiral David G., 17, 18; 
victory of, at New Orleans, 73; de- 
mands surrender of the city, 75. 

Field, Cyrus W., 188, 189. 

Fincke, Miss Frances A., marries 
J. M. M., 428. 

Florida, Confederate cruiser, seized in 
Brazilian harbor, 125. 

Forrest, Commodore French, 89. 

Fort Fisher, 194. 

Fort Harrison, 208-10. 

Foute, Rev. Mr., 428, 429. 

Fox terriers, 461, 462. 

Frigate bird, fight with, 141. 

Fry, Lieutenant Joseph, '57. 

Galena, the, testing of, 81, 82. 

Georgia, the. Confederate cruiser, 
1 14-17; captures and burns the 
Dictator, 118, 119; captures the 
George Griswold, 135; captures and 



Index 



487 



burns the Good Hope, 136-39; cap- 
tures and burns the Constitution, 
142-45; captures and releases the 
City of Bath, 144; captures the John 
Watt, 154; captures and burns the 
Bold Hunter, 156; has narrow es- 
cape from destruction, 156-58; en- 
counters French bark La Patrie, 
160-62; rescues French brig Dili- 
gente, 162; mutiny on, 163, 164; 
ordered out of commission, 180, 182; 
captured by the Niagara, 183; 
wrecked, 183. 

Gillmore, General Quincy A., suffers 
for courtesy shown to Mr. Tren- 
holm, 251, 252. 

Gonzalez, President, 418, 419. 

Good Hope, Cape of, 146, 147, 150. 

Grant, General Ulysses S., 405. 

Gridley, Captain Charles V., 25. 

"Grigson, Mr.," 112. 

Gringo, meaning of the term, 395. 

Hamilton, Duke of, 307-09. 

Hampton, General Wade, 360, 361, 
364; Governor of South Carolina, 
370; Senator, 376, 377- 

Hancock, General Winfield Scott, 265, 
421. 

Harems, 283-86. 

Harrison, President Benjamin, 458. 

Harrison, Colonel Burton N., secre- 
tary to Mr. Davis, 229-32, 463. 

Heriat, Mr., editor of the New Or- 
leans Bee, 41. 

Heth, Major General Harry, favorite 
of General Lee, 469. 

Hicky, Colonel Philip, II ; hospitality 
of, II, 12. 

Hollins, Commodore George N., seizes 
the Manassas, 55; denounced, 58; 
reprimands J. M. M., 66, 67; at New 
Orleans, 70, 7 1 ; relieved from com- 
mand, 72, 73; last days of, 74. 

Hollins, George, son of Commodore, 

91-93. 

Home Guard, the, at New Orleans, 77. 

Hood, General John B., succeeds 
General Johnston, 224. 

Hope Estate Plantation, sugar-mak- 
ing at, 12; J.M.M. tries cotton 
planting on, 259. 



Horsemanship, Australian, 435-37. 
Hospitality, Southern, 11, 12. 
Howell, Jefferson Davis, 220, 464. 
Huger, Captain Thomas B., 52, 54; 

wounded, 73. 
Hunt, General Henry J., controls 

negro mob, 350, 351. 
Hygera, "the strangler tree," 403. 

Indians, in Louisiana, 3. 

Ingraham, Commodore Duncan N., 
89, 90. 

Island Number 10, fortified by Con- 
federates, 61; bombarded, 62; fall 
of, 69. 

Ismail Pasha, Khedive of Egypt, 
wants American officers for his army, 
266; J. M. M. presented to, 271; an 
admirer of European women, 275- 
77; power of, 281-83. 

Jackson, "Stonewall," 86, 144. 

Johnson, Andrew, 36, 37. 

Johnston, General Joseph E., 224. 

Johnston, Mrs. Joseph E., 221. 

Jouett, Rear Admiral James E., 469, 
470. 

Junket, to investigate Nez Perces In- 
dians, 379. 

Kangaroo hunting, 445-47. 

Katish, old black nurse, i, 5, 6, 7. 

Kearsarge, U.S. sloop-of-war, sinks 
the Alabama, 187. 

Kell, Commander, of the Alabama, 
187-90. 

Kennon, Commander Beverly, 207, 
208. 

King, Mrs. Henry, conceals Mr. Tren- 
holm's gold, 247-49; marries Con- 
gressman Bowen, 353. 

La None, Charles, brother-in-law of 

J. M. M.. 4, 5. 
Laughing jackass, the, 451. 
Learned, Lyman, 395, 396. 
Leary, Captain Richard P., 26. 
Lee, Miss Mary, 482. 
Lee, General Robert E., at Fort 

Harrison, 210, 211,217; letter of, 

273- 
Le Mat, Colonel, 94, 95. 



488 



Index 



Lillian, southern blockade-runner, 
190-96. 

Lincoln, Abraham, issues amnesty 
proclamation, 242. 

Livingston, the, a "wonderful con- 
traption," 61. 

Loch, Sir Henry, Governor of Victoria, 

433. 435. 437, 453- 
Lockwood, General Henry H., 32, 
Loring, General W. W., in the Khe- 
dive's service, 277, 287, 290, 291, 
296; J. M. M. indignant with, 298, 
299 ; leads expedition against Abys- 
sinians, 305, 306. 
Louisiana, the, 72. 

MacalHster, Charles, Jr., owner of 
the Scud, 264, 265. 

Macbeth, Lieutenant, helps J.M. M. 
bury Trenholm silver, 240, 

Mallory, Stephen R., Confederate 
Secretary of the Navy, 96, 228. 

Manassas, the, capture of, 55; rams 
the Richmond, 56, 57. 

Marriage, in Egypt, 281, 282; in 
Mexico, 396. 

Martin, Daniel, captain of the Lillian, 
190-96. 

Maury, Commodore Matthew Fon- 
taine, 96; a scientific navigator, 100; 
deeply religious, loi; a great scien- 
tist, 102, 103, 107; outwits the Brit- 
ish Government, 114. 

Maury, Commander William L., 112, 
113, 115; commands the Georgia, 
116-69; ill, 163; relieved of com- 
mand, 169. 

Maximilian, Emperor of Mexico, 399, 
400. 

Maynadier, Captain Henry, 35. 

McClellan, General George B., 264. 

McDow, Dr., concerned in death of 
F. W. Dawson, 459, 460. 

McHattan-Ripley, Mrs., "From Flag 
to Flag " quoted, 90, 91. 

McRae, Confederate sloop-of-war, 51- 
56; made flagship of Commodore 
Hollins, 60, 61 ; at New Madrid, 62, 
63, 65, 66, 69; in battle with Farra- 
gut, 73; sinks, 74. 

Melbourne, 432; World's Fair at, 
454-56. 



Melton, Judge, 332, 333; controversy 
with Colonel Montgomery, 333-39. 

Merrimac, the, 78. 

Metcalf, Dr. John T., 257, 258, 

Mirage, at night, 1 58, 159. 

"Monday," a negro preacher, 323-25. 

Moors, adventure with, 174-77. 

Morgan, Colonel A. S. M., cousin of 
J. M. M., 83. 

Morgan, Bedford, uncle of J. M. M., 3. 

Morgan, Colonel George, great-grand- 
lather of J. M. M., 67; J. M. M., 
reads from diary of, 470, 471. 

Morgan, Captain George, brother of 
J. M. M., 41, 51; injured at battle 
of Seven Pines, 83; death of, 165. 

Morgan, Gibbes, brother of J. M. M., 
marries Lydia Carter, 1 1 ; Lieuten- 
ant in Confederate Army, 41, 51; 
Captain, 84, 86, 87, 88; death of, 
165, 166. 

Morgan, H. Gibbes, cousin of J.M.M., 
256. 

Morgan, Harry, brother of J. M. M., 
41 ; killed in duel with James Sparks, 

42, 43- 
Morgan, James Morris, birth, i ; child- 
hood, i-io; fond of horses, 2, 8-10; 
witnesses destruction of steamboat 
Princess, 3-5; attends school when 
convenient, 8; first love, ii;goesto 
school in earnest, 14-16; at Fortress 
Monroe, 16-20; goes to Annapolis, 
21; learns obedience, 22; some em- 
bryo heroes among his fellow mid- 
shipmen, 25, 26; first experience on 
skates, 28, 29; resigns when Fort 
Sumter is fired on, 33; dubbed 
"Little" Morgan, 34; meets An- 
drew Johnson, 36, 37; death of his 
brother Harry, 41-43; sent on im- 
portant mission to General Bragg, 
45-48; assigned to the McRae, 52; 
mastheaded, 54; death of his father, 
59; aide-de-camp to Commodore 
Hollins, 61 ; sent to burn New Mad- 
rid, 67, 68; in the river fight at New 
Orleans, 71-74; goes to Norfolk and 
Richmond, 76-79; ordered to the 
naval battery at Drewry's Bluff, 
80; on the gunboat Beaufort, 86-88; 
assigned to the Chicora at Charles- 



Index 



489 



ton, 89, 90; invited to stay at Mr. 
Trenholm's house, 93. 

Ordered to report to Commodore 
M. F. Maury, 97; runs the blockade 
out of Charleston Harbor, 98; in 
Bermuda and Halifax, 101-04; 
reaches England, 106; aboard the 
Georgia, 114; tries unsuccessfully 
to set fire to a prize, 119; at Bahia, 
125-32; at Trinidad, 140, 141; 
grows rapidly, 145, 201; in Cape 
Town, 148-50; "a hero," 151, 152; 
has a narrow escape, 156-58; quells 
a mutiny, 163, 164; in Cherbourg, 
165-72 ; death of his brothers George 
and Gibbes, 165; letter to his moth- 
er, 166-69; in a storm off Cape 
Trafalgar, 172; off the coast of 
Morocco, 173-79; honored in Liver- 
pool, 181, 182; joins a blockade- 
running party, 188; gets into Wil- 
mington on the Lillian, 190-95; re- 
turns to Charleston, 198; engaged 
to Miss Trenholm, 202; on school- 
ship Patrick Henry, 204-11; be- 
comes a passed midshipman, 212; 
at Battery Semmes, 212-19; rela- 
tions with Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson 
Davis, 220-22; reduced to a Fal- 
stafiian costume, 223; accompanies 
Mrs. Davis from Richmond, 228- 
37; in Abbeville, 239-43; accom- 
panies Mr. Trenholm when arrested, 

245-51- 

Married, 255; studies law, 256, 
259; death of his wife, 257; has yel- 
low fever, 257, 258; tries cotton- 
planting, 259; raises potatoes, 262; 
captain in Egyptian army, 266; 
presented to the Khedive, 271; on 
the Khedive's personal staff, 274; 
obtains Napoleon, "the bounding 
horse," 277, 288, 289; dangerous 
gallantry, 279-81; sent to Rosetta, 
291; adventure with lepers, 294; 
collects back pay, 297, 298; has a 
mortifying experience, 298, 299; re- 
lations with Ratib Pasha, 302-05; 
goes to France, 310; shipwrecked, 
31 1 ; spends a gloomy week in Paris, 
312-14. 

Returns to America, 315; experi- 



ences with carpetbaggers and ig- 
norant negroes, 317-31; wounded 
in a political feud, 333-39; swin- 
dled by a carpetbagger, 340, 341; 
outrageously taxed, 342, 343; mar- 
ries Miss Gabriella Burroughs, 344; 
sells his plantation, 346, 347; aids 
Captain Dawson in Bowen trial, 
356-58; in the political campaign of 
1875, 360-69; financially ruined, 
371; helps Senator Butler thwart a 
conspiracy, 372, 373; accompanies 
junket to Chief Joseph's camp, 379- 
82; goes to Mexico with Governor 
Shepherd, 383-94; returns home, 
39S» 396; goes back to Mexico with 
an engineering party, 398; on a sur- 
veying expedition, 401-04; investi- 
gates a silver mine, 405, 406; hunts 
for an asphalt lake, 408, 410-12; 
interests New Yorkers in it, 412, 
413; witnesses a strange festival, 
414, 415; receives a proposal of 
marriage, 416; with General Stone 
at Bedloe's Island, 420-23. 

Consul-general to Australasia, 
423-58; marries Miss Frances A. 
Fincke, 428; consular duties, 438; 
an experience with an Australian 
court, 439-41; connection with 
Melbourne World's Fair, 454-56; 
birth of his daughter Frederica, 
459; settles on a Maryland farm, 
459; renews close relations with Mrs. 
Jefferson Davis, 463; moves to 
Washington, 468; goes to Panama, 
474-82. 

Morgan, Dr. John, great-uncle of 
J. M. M., 267. 

Morgan, Judge Philip Hicky, brother 
of J. M. M., 14, 16, 46-49, 253, 256; 
placarded as traitor, 42 ; Minister to 
Mexico, 383, 398, 405. 

Morgan, Sarah, married to Captain F. 
W. Dawson, 227; publishes journal, 

344- 
Morgan, Judge Thomas Gibbes, father 

of J. M. M., i; letter to eldest son, 

52; death of, 59; destruction of his 

home, 90, 91. 
Moses, Franklin J., Governor of South 

Carolina, 317-20, 329. 



490 



Index 



Moses, Judge, uncle of the Governor, 

332. 
Mott, Major-General Thaddeus P., 

308, 309. 
Mules in Mexico, 385, 389. 

Nagle, Dr., carpetbag comptroller, 
328, 343. 346. 

Napoleon, "the bounding horse," 277- 
80, 288, 289, 293. 

"Nat," Mrs. W. L. Trenholm's but- 
ler, 240, 241. 

New Madrid, 62, 63; destruction of, 
67, 68. 

Niagara, U.S. sloop-of-war, 130; cap- 
tures the Georgia, 183. 

Panama, Republic of, 474. 

Paris, in spring of 1871, 312, 313. 

Parker, Lieutenant William H., super- 
intendent of the Patrick Henry, 205 ; 
protects Confederate treasure, 233; 
cares for Mrs. Davis and family, 
234-36. 

Patrick Henry, Confederate school- 
ship, 204-11; menu on, 205; recita- 
tion rooms, 205; served as a receiv- 
ing ship, 206; blown up, 233. 

" Peace-at-any-price," 472, 473. 

Peccaries, 402, 403. 

Pipkin, William, "Bill Pip," 24, 25; 
rose to rank of colonel, 25. 

Polignac, Prince, claims to have been 
sent on mission by President Davis, 
465, 466. 

Pope, General John, at New Madrid, 
63, 69, 70. 

Porter, Rev. A. Toomer, 255. 

Princess, the, destruction of, 3-5. 

Prioleau, Mr., Liverpool partner of 
Mr. Trenholm, 106, 109, no, 170. 

Privateers, 184. 

Pulque, Mexican, 19, 20. 

Rabbits, ravages of, in Australia, 447, 

448. 
Rappahannock, Confederate cruiser, 

169, 170. 
Ratib Pasha, Lieutenant-General, 

287, 288, 301-07. 
Read, "Savez," 61, 64, 69, 73, 218, 

219. 



Reconstruction period in South Caro- 

Hna, 317-78. 
Religious mania in school, 14-16. 
Rifle clubs in South Carolina, 350, 360, 

362, 374. 
Rodgers, Rear Admiral C. R. P., 

23. 
Rodgers, Captain George W., 26-28, 

33- 
Rodgers, Commander John, U.S.N. 

tests the Galena, 81, 82. 
Roosevelt, Theodore, 477, 480. 

Samoans, as swimmers, 457, 458. 
Saurez, Mr., a generous Jew, 311-14. 
"Scalawags," 348. 
Scott, Lieutenant Robert Wainwright, 

21, 24. 
Semmes, Captain Raphael, 126-31. 
Semmes Battery, 212, 228. 
Seven Pines, battle of, 83. 
Seventh-Day Adventists, 429, 430. 
Sharks, 457, 480. 
Shepherd, Governor Alexander R., 

mining enterprise of, in Mexico, 

383-94. 
Sherman, General W. T., visits Egypt, 

266. 
Sickles, General Daniel E., 257. 
Sigsbee, Rear Admiral Charles Dwight, 

26. 
Smith, F. Hopkinson, quarrels with 

General C. P. Stone, 422. 
Soule, Pierre, controls mob at New 

Orleans, 75, 76; U.S. Minister to 

Spain, 223. 
Sparks, James, kills Harry Morgan in 

duel, 43. 
Stage-coach traveling in Mexico, 398, 

399. 

Stephens, Hon. Alexander H., 203. 

Stone, General Charles P., 269; chief- 
of-staff of Khedive of Egypt, 287, 
290, 296, 302 ; a born manipulator of 
men, 299, 300; erects statue of Lib- 
erty on Bedloe's Island, 419, 420; 
has trouble with F. Hopkinson 
Smith, 42,2. 

Sugar-making, 12. 

Taylor, Rear Admiral Henry C, 25. 
Taylor, General Zachary, 2. 



Index 



491 



Tenerlffe, Peak of, 159. 

Thackeray, W. M., anecdote of, 
248. 

Thompson, Hon. Jacob, Secretary of 
the Interior in Buchanan's Cabinet, 
18, 19. 

Thompson, General JeflF, "the swamp 
fox of Missouri," 62, 63. 

Thompson, Sam, negro trial justice, 
321, 326, 327. 

Tom Benton, the, 66. 

Trenholm, Frank, brother-in-law of 
J. M. M., 259, 260. 

Trenholm, George A., 198; and An- 
drew Johnson, 37; befriends George 
Hollins, 92, 93; helps J. M. M. , 93- 
97, 103, 106, 107, no; owned many 
blockade runners, 98, 200, 222; Sec- 
retary of Confederate Treasury, 
199, 201, 202, 222, 223; resigns, 225; 
buys home in Columbia, 244; ar- 
rested, 245-52; pardoned, 255; re- 
covers his home, 257. 

Trenholm, Mrs. George A., 95, 203. 

Trenholm, Miss Helen, 94, 96, 200, 
202, 255. 

Trenholm, Colonel William L., son of 
George A., 96, 200, 201. 

Trinidad, island^of, 140, 141. 

Tupper, Captain George, in shooting 



affray, 334-39; elected Mayor of 
Summerville, 339. 

Upshur, Admiral John H., 24, 25, 30, 
31- 

Vance, Zebulon B., 375, 376. 
Vanilla, 412, 413. 

Volunteers, Louisiana, at the begin- 
ning of the Civil War, 44. 

Wachusett, U.S.S., disregards Brazil- 
ian neutrality, 125. 

Wagner, Theodore, 199, 244, 245. 

Wallace, General William H., 365-69. 

Warley, Lieutenant A. F., 91, 93. 

Waterspouts, 124. 

Wedding, an expensive luxury in 
Mexico, 396. 

Weil, Mr., shelters Mrs. Jefferson 
Davis, 231. 

White, Chief Justice Edward D., 256. 

White, Colonel, murder of, 353-59. 

Wigfall, Senator Louis T., 35-37; 
enemy of Mr. Davis, 235. 

Wild horses, chasing, 8-10. 

Wildes, Rear Admiral Frank, 26. 

Worthington, General, carpetbagger, 
330. 

Wright, Edward Markoe, 315. 



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